


The Consequences of Costume Parties

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Davos is an enabler, Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Smut, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Littlefinger is creepy, No Underage Sex, Office, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sansa is a cocktease, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Stannis is a little out of control, Teasing, This Was Supposed To Be A One Shot, Underage Flirting, Vanilla Kink, boner angst, hahahaha, office flirting, personal assistant!Sansa, so much sexual frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 89,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is fifteen when she first notices Stannis in <i>that</i> way. What will she do when she ends up working for him the summer after she turns eighteen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Costume Party and a Trip to the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Another one shot that got away from me.
> 
> Posting it today because Halloween is tomorrow, and the chapter opens with a costume party.
> 
> Fair warning, this is not entirely as romantic as _Sometimes, You Get What You Need._
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Game of Thrones/ASOIAF characters. I am just playing with them because I am trash. GRRM and HBO own everything. Not me.

“Mum! The makeup is for the costume. It’s a _costume_ party,” Sansa insisted, feeling very put upon and frustrated with her mother. Really, she was fifteen. She should be allowed to wear makeup every day if she wanted to. Margaery was allowed, and always had eyeliner and mascara on at school. Only _babies_ didn’t wear makeup these days. Why didn’t her mother understand that?

“I don’t know what kind of costume requires all that eyeliner…” her mother said sceptically, a crease between her brows and her arms crossed over her chest.

“A slut costume?” Arya suggested cheekily, brandishing the bow that came with her Robin Hood getup.

“Arya! Apologise to your sister at once! I will not tolerate language like that under my roof.”

“Sorry,” Arya said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes before bounding off to bother someone else.

“I’m going as a cat,” Sansa said stubbornly, “and all the girls my age wear makeup like this.”

“You don’t need it, darling,” her mother sighed, “you’re so beautiful without any of that stuff on your face.”

“You wear makeup!” Sansa argued resentfully. Her mother was being deliberately unfair and impossible. It didn’t matter that she had a pretty face if she couldn’t join in the conversation about the best products and most fashionable colours to wear with the other girls. She hated feeling left out and looked down on for not knowing the difference between cosmetics brands.

“Well, I’m getting old. I need a little help to cover up the wrinkles,” her mother said self-deprecatingly.

In the end Sansa was allowed to keep the makeup on, but her mother insisted she wear a top underneath her skin-tight catsuit, so that even if she zipped it down it wouldn’t reveal too much cleavage. She pretended to be annoyed about it, but was secretly relieved. She still felt a little shy about her breasts. She’d had them since she turned thirteen - they had seemed to just grow overnight - but they had been getting bigger recently, and she had needed to go shopping for proper bras with _underwires_ a few months ago. She had even bought one with a little padding, (Margaery _always_ wore bras with padding) and when she put it on she felt like her breasts were practically pushed up to her chin. Tonight was the first night she had dared to wear it. She was hoping Joffrey might notice. Margaery wouldn’t be around to steal all of his attention, so Sansa figured her odds were pretty good.

Robert, her father’s best friend, had been throwing a costume party at this time of year since before Sansa could remember. He always invited the Starks, the Arryns, the Lannisters and his own brothers. The adults tended to sequester themselves away from the kids, though one or two grown-ups usually stayed with the younger generation to keep an eye on them. There were games, and sweets, and last year Sansa had even been allowed to try some bubbly. It had been a little different to go to the party ever since Robb and cousin Jon started to stay with the adults instead of playing, and Sansa and Joffrey were both reaching an age where they were less interested in playing with the younger kids, and more interested in pretending to be too cool for the ‘silly’ games. Last year Sansa had spent most of the party in Joffrey’s room, listening to him brag about his prowess in some computer game. She hadn’t minded. Sansa had been convinced that she would eventually marry Joffrey since she was about five years old. He was _perfect._ Handsome and blonde like a prince out of a fairy tale…

“Nice costume,” Joffrey said when they had escaped from the adults and the rowdy kids.

Sansa blushed and thanked him prettily. He was dressed as a famous spy, and looked very dashing and suave. She went on about how wonderful he looked at length and Joffrey gave her a smirk for her effort. The smirk started her heart beating faster and set off the butterflies in her stomach, and she was glad for the layer of foundation she was wearing because it might be disguising her continuous blush a little.

“I’m going to go swipe us a bottle of Champagne,” Joffrey said casually once the subject of their costumes was exhausted.

“Sure, okay, I - I’ll wait here,” Sansa said timidly, not really sure if he wanted her to come with him. But he wasn’t even listening to her, already walking off.

Sansa looked around the large, decorated room in boredom while she waited. Most of the furniture had been moved out of the way to make sure there would be room for the kids to run around without breaking anything, but there was a table full of sweets, soda pops and various refreshments in the corner, and a couple of sofas pushed up against a wall for when anyone wanted a rest.

Suddenly Arya ran past and snatched at Sansa’s hair, taking the headband with the cat ears with her.

“Hey!” Sansa objected, “give that back!”

“You’ll have to catch me!” Arya gloated, already turning a corner.

Sansa stomped her foot in frustration and let out an irritated huff, but decided to give chase. Her costume just didn’t make any sense without the ears.

She ran flat out so that she would have some chance of catching up to her quick sister, turning the corner almost without slowing down. Unfortunately someone had been standing on the other side and Sansa collided with him at full speed. She probably would have rebounded and fallen to the floor if he hadn’t steadied her with his arms; causing them to end up in an odd, short-lived embrace. It all happened so fast that Sansa was unable to comprehend anything except how very hard the body she was suddenly pressed up against was -- almost like _metal_. She took a breath and her nose was filled with a sharp, fresh scent that reminded her of lemons and sandalwood, and it was a little like how her dad smelled when he was fresh from a shower, so she breathed deeply, feeling strongly attracted.

All too soon the hands that had caught and steadied her were pushing her to stand a respectable distance away from the very, _very_ hard body, and Sansa looked up to see who had made sure she hadn’t fallen and bruised her backside.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he grumbled, scowling at her.

It was Stannis, the middle Baratheon brother. Sansa wasn’t sure she had ever even spoken to him, although she liked his little daughter Shireen. She wasn’t bothered by the scowl as she had never seen Stannis without a scowl on his face. It seemed to be his natural expression.

“Are you wearing armour?” she asked without thinking, blinking up at him owlishly. He didn’t look as if he were wearing a costume, but maybe it was something subtle that she wasn’t getting?

“What?” He looked baffled and annoyed. Obviously he wasn’t wearing a costume, then. Sansa felt herself go crimson as she realised that all that hardness she had felt was just… him. His _muscles_. She felt a wild urge to run away and hide, while simultaneously wondering if she could find an excuse to get him to take his shirt off.

In a trance, she reached forward and poked his stomach with a finger. It was like touching a brick wall. 

A sensation that she had only felt a handful of times in her young life flowed through her like molten lava, making her feel uncomfortably like she had just wet herself a little. Heat pooled between her legs, and she could have sworn that she was _throbbing_ with the need for… something.

“Sansa!” he barked, swatting her finger away. She snapped out of her dazed state, glancing at his face in a panic and noticing to her surprise that he was flushed red. He looked _embarrassed._

“I’m sorry,” she hastened to apologise, biting her lip and widening her eyes in the way she always did to get out of trouble with her father. “I didn’t mean to be rude, please forgive me,” she added, fluttering her eyelashes and trying to seem as innocent as she could while thinking about how much she wanted something to press firmly between her legs.

Stannis’ scowl seemed to become even more pronounced, but he nodded. “It’s fine,” he said brusquely, moving to pass her by.

She didn’t try to stop him, and stood still for a long while, trying to get her heart to slow down.

***

Sansa couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts were all over the place, and she still felt a little dizzy from all the Champagne she had been drinking with Joffrey back at his house.

Joffrey had kissed her.

Joffrey had kissed her, and it hadn’t made her feel a _fraction_ of what she had felt after running into Stannis. She was supposed to be in love with Joffrey, and yet she had only felt the usual butterflies when he had smushed their mouths together wetly. She hadn’t felt any _heat._

What was wrong with her?

Feeling guilty, she pressed a pillow in between her thighs, rocking against it and thinking about a heady, masculine scent, and how it had felt to be pressed against a strong, hard body. She rolled onto her stomach and thought about what it might feel like to have the weight of such a body pressing her against the mattress, and had to stifle a moan at the idea. Her face felt like it was burning with embarrassment and something else, the heat spreading down from her face and all over. The friction from the pillow was _wonderful_ and she could feel pleasure building and coiling low in her body, a swell that was promising to break in the most delightful way.

Sansa whimpered when she came, almost disappointed that it was over already, but too sensitive to continue.

She felt guilty again when she realised she hadn’t thought about Joffrey or his kiss _once_ while she had been… doing what she had been doing.

Maybe that was normal? Maybe she wouldn’t get all hot from Joffrey’s kisses until they had managed to practise some more? It had only been her first kiss, after all. Maybe she hadn’t done it right?

Sansa was finally becoming sleepy, so she decided to postpone further thoughts on the subject until the morning.

***

Sansa was seventeen and _tired_ of the sympathetic looks her parents kept shooting her.

Yes, Joffrey had dumped her.

Yes, he had started dating her so-called friend.

 _No,_ she wasn’t upset.

Joffrey was an arse. He had been an arse all along, but it had taken her more than a year to see it. By then she had made such a fuss over being ‘Joffrey’s girlfriend’ and gained so much status at school for being ‘Joffrey’s girlfriend’ that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to break it off. Margaery’s underhanded way of swooping in and making out with him at the end of year school formal had been a blessing, really.

“Oh, I’m so _sorry,_ Sansa!” Margaery had said with a sympathetic look in her eyes, “Joffrey told me you were already broken up...”

“It’s fine, I hope you two are happy together,” Sansa said, trying to suppress the urge to smile brightly. She had a feeling that someone who had just been dumped ought not be smiling like a loon. She wouldn’t have to keep fending off Joffrey’s attempts to have sex with her. She had never really been all that invested in saving herself until marriage until she realised she was in a relationship with a boy she never, _ever_ wanted to have sex with. It had been a convenient excuse, and it had worked for a long time. But then Joffrey had stopped being satisfied with handjobs and the occasional blowjob and started to want her to watch porn with him, and she had noticed that almost all of the films he wanted to watch had anal sex in them, and he had started to make offhand comments and giving her ‘subtle’ hints. Apparently anal sex didn’t ‘count’ and it was something one could do without ‘technically’ losing one’s virginity.

Yeah, right.

She hoped Margaery would have fun fending him off. Or maybe she wouldn’t mind letting him have sex with her? She had heard that Margaery had already lost her virginity to some college guy, a friend of her brother’s. Oberyn something? That’s what Sansa had heard, anyway.

“Do you want me to set you up with someone new? I feel so terrible about this. I know my brother Willas isn’t seeing anyone…”

Sansa just shook her head and smiled. She did not need a pity date with Margaery’s brother. They both dropped the subject, and never mentioned it again.

It had already been a few weeks, and her parents seemed to be very worried that Sansa was having a hard time being around Joffrey on the first beach trip of the summer. Robert had a private beach that he regularly invited the Starks to enjoy with him and his family, and it was _so_ much better than going to the public beach and having to fight over a stretch of bare sand with all the tourists. Sansa also felt less self-conscious about her pale skin when she was on Robert’s beach. No matter what she did she was unable to get a tan. At most she just turned red for a while and then went right back to being lily-white. She really enjoyed lying in the sun, however, whether she was reading a book or just daydreaming and soaking up the warm rays, it was just _lovely_.

Sansa didn’t care about Joffrey and Margaery, though. They were off playing in the surf, taking pictures of each other’s perfect bronzed bodies and being _adorable._ She was more interested in Stannis. He was the only other person other than herself who did not seem to wish to frolic in the waves. Even her parents had eventually stopped giving her worried looks and gone off to have a swim.

She wondered why Stannis wasn’t taking his shirt off. From what she could recall - she blushed at the memory - he had _nothing_ to be ashamed of. And yet, there he was, sitting in the shade, wearing long shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt in dark colours, watching his daughter intently as she built a sand castle just where the sand changed from being dry and powdery to being wet from the surf. The tide was low, so she was in no danger of getting caught in a wave.

Still contemplating the mystery of Stannis and his insistence on wearing a shirt, she started to re-apply sunblock to her skin, wanting to avoid the whole ‘turning red’ bit that tended to happen if she left herself out in the sun for too long. She was flexible enough to be able to reach most of her back, but a daring, reckless part of her wanted to see if she could get Stannis to do it for her.

“Stannis?” She said his name at a regular volume as Stannis wasn’t sitting very far away.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, looking surprised that she would address him.

“Could you please come over here a second?” she asked, making her voice as sweet as she possibly could. She suppressed a gleeful squeal when he silently got to his feet and crossed the short distance that had been separating them. It would be been rather odd if he had stood over her, so she was glad when he sat down on her big picnic blanket. (She disliked lying on a towel.)

“What?” he asked in a clipped, almost rude, tone of voice. He was glancing frequently at Shireen, but seemed to relax slightly when Myrcella and Tommen bounded over to his daughter and started to help with the construction work.

“Could you do my back?” she waved the bottle of sunblock in the air to help explain what she meant.

Stannis tensed up like an angry cat, but more interestingly, his face started to redden.

“Please? It’s so awful when I miss a spot and I burn,” she fluttered her eyelashes the way she did when she _really_ wanted something from her dad or her older brother.

Stannis glanced nervously at the ocean, obviously searching for her dad. “Couldn’t someone else…?” he said reluctantly, trailing off when he realised that everyone else was occupied. He looked at her again, and she redoubled the effort behind her pleading look, adding a bit of a pout on a whim.

He blew out an exasperated breath and accepted the bottle from her.

She gave him her most dazzling smile and moved to turn her back to him. She heard him pop the cap of the bottle open, and squeeze some of the product out. He still hadn’t touched her when she had a slightly wicked idea. It would require her to be rather brazen, but she found herself curious about what his reaction would be.

“Wait, I just remembered! The material of my top stains so easily, I need to untie the straps, hold on,” she said as casually as she could, pulling on the simple bows that held her top to her body at the back of her neck, and under her shoulder blades. They came loose instantly, and she had to be quick to keep the triangles of fabric that were preserving her modesty from falling away from her chest.

“Oops, I had better lie down,” she said lightly, glancing over her shoulder to gauge Stannis’ reaction. He had clenched his jaw shut very tightly, and he was a little flushed, but otherwise he looked much like he always did. She gave him another smile, and got herself comfortable on her stomach, making sure to sweep her long hair out of the way for him.

She had apparently missed a stray lock, however, as the first thing Stannis did was to carefully brush it aside, his touch featherlight and careful -- almost as if he were afraid of hurting her. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and she felt his other hand, the one that had been holding a dollop of sunblock for a little while, come down on the middle of her back, the product in his hand a comfortable temperature. He started to rub the sunblock into her skin brusquely, and she was disappointed that he wasn’t being as gentle as he had been when he had moved her hair.

“Is that how you do it for Shireen? She must have bruises.” Sansa complained, unable to help herself. She heard him sigh in annoyance, but his touch became gentler, and she hummed happily in response.

“Mm, that’s better.”

And it was better. It was a little _too_ good, actually. She felt blood rush to her cheeks, and a familiar sensation of heat coursing through her, pooling between her thighs and making her want to squirm around for some friction. She wished she needed sunblock between her legs.

The idea of his gentle touch _there_ forced her to bite her lip in order to prevent a moan from escaping.

He was very methodical, and she was sure that he covered every inch of her exposed back with a layer of sunblock. She was incredibly glad that he seemed to be taking his time, and doing it _properly,_ because she was relatively certain this was the most erotic touch she had ever felt and she never wanted it to end.

But eventually - sadly - it did end.

“Thank you,” she said, the words coming out in an embarrassing moaning sort of way. She opened her eyes and rose up as much as she could without flashing him so she could see his face.

“Do you want me to do you?” she offered without thinking, realising a little too late that what she had said could easily count as a double entendre. She felt herself flush bright red, but couldn’t make herself look away from Stannis. He was looking very flushed, too.

“Ah, no. I’ll - I’ll keep my shirt on,” he stammered, looking a little terrified and tongue-tied.

“Are you sure? I’ve read that soaking up the sun is the best way to get a good dose of vitamin D,” she babbled, unable to stop her mouth from moving.

“Yes, I’m sure. Thank you.” The ‘thank you’ was tacked on as an afterthought, but she appreciated that he was trying to be polite all of a sudden.

“Shy?” she teased, unable to understand where her bravery was coming from.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t say anything. Instead he busied himself with closing the bottle of sunblock and putting it away in Sansa’s beach tote.

“I’m pretty sure you have no reason to be shy,” she continued, words spewing forth without her brain’s permission.

He blinked at her, both eyebrows raised in a look of perfect surprise. She tried to look as innocent as she could, but could feel that she was still blushing violently.

“Er… I’m just going to… I think Shireen needs me. Excuse me.”

Sansa giggled nervously to herself, closed her eyes tightly and turned her face downwards, hiding it from the world.

***

Stannis yawned and tried to read the sentence on the screen in front of him for the third time. It wasn’t sinking in. He was too tired, and too distracted. For the past ten minutes his thoughts had kept drifting back to Robert’s beach and to the stunning little redhead that had wanted him to put sunblock on her back; almost flashing him in the process, too.

He groaned and scrubbed at his eyes, trying to make himself think about something else. _Anything_ but the sound Ned’s daughter had made when he had gentled his touch to almost a caress, his fingers gliding smoothly over her pale, flawless skin, with absolutely no barriers getting in the way. He was sure her pleased little hum of approval, and that purr of a ‘thank you’ she had given him would haunt his dreams. Did she know how _sexual_ she had sounded? Had she done it on purpose?

He was almost sure she had been flirting with him after he had finished groping her in the name of protecting her from the sun, her comments about him having nothing to be ashamed of most likely referencing the other occasion on which he had been extremely inappropriately aroused by her. She had seemed quite taken with his musculature when he had caught her running around in a skin tight catsuit a couple of years back. He could vividly remember how she had actually _poked_ his abdomen, looking rather fascinated and innocently curious.

_”Do you want me to do you?”_

Had she really said that?

 _Gods._ She was underage. She was _still_ underage. Even thinking these thoughts bordered on pedophilia.

He needed a distraction. Or a shower. 

… A very cold one.


	2. Summer Job

Sansa was eighteen and wanted a job for the summer. She’d be starting University in the fall, moving to King’s Landing and staying in the dorms. She really wanted a car so that she’d be able to get around the city and drive up North to visit her parents on the occasional weekend. She’d begged her father for a car for _months,_ but he was determined.

“It wouldn’t be fair. We didn’t give Robb a car, and we wouldn’t be able to afford to give all of your siblings a new car when they reach your age.”

Thus, her need for a job.

“Can you ask around? You must have friends that need someone to help out over the summer…” Sansa asked her parents, knowing that their circle of friends contained more CEOs and people with similar three-letter job titles than was probably normal.

They promised to ask around, and got back to her with one job offer each a few days later.

“Aunt Lysa needs someone to help babysit Robin this summer, she’s willing to pay you for it, although it might not be a fortune,” her mother explained as she wrestled Rickon into a clean shirt.

Sansa helped her mother, and Rickon tried to bite her.

“I’m not sure I really want to babysit…” Sansa hedged.

“Robert told me that Stannis always has trouble finding an assistant to replace Davos while he takes his holiday,” her father said, picking Rickon up and rescuing Sansa from further harm.

“That’s a big job, Ned!” her mother exclaimed, “I doubt Sansa would be able to fill those shoes,” she continued in a sceptical tone of voice.

“Oh, no one could. There’s no point even trying. But Stannis still needs someone to take care of the details he hasn’t the time for. I’m sure Sansa wouldn’t be any worse at it than any of the usual incompetent temps.”

“Gee, thanks Dad.”

“You know what I mean,” her father said with a crooked smile. She smiled back, glad as she always was to see him look less than serious -- it happened so rarely, after all.

Sansa was doing her best to hide it, but the idea of working for Stannis was making her intensely excited. Her heart was beating up a storm, and she felt all flushed and faint. It was definitely a preferable job when compared with the option of babysitting her spoiled cousin.

“If Stannis thinks it’s okay, I’d like to try it,” she said, trying to sound calm and grown up.

***

It was her first day at Dragonstone, and she was already regretting her decision to wear high heels. She had wanted to look sophisticated and polished, and she was pretty sure she had succeeded, but her feet were _killing her._ She hadn’t realised Stannis did so much walking around! He always seemed to be going from meeting to meeting, or checking on some employee or other, or looking in on the production line. She was required to shadow him and take notes and carry out his numerous orders. Most of his orders required her to make phone calls and demand that other people do something, but occasionally he asked her to bring him lemon water or perform other such minor fetch and carry tasks. She wondered if Davos was ever asked to do something like that, but decided not to dwell on it. Stannis had told her that she would not really be replacing Davos so much as she was there to pick up as much of the slack as an uninitiated person could reasonably be expected to.

Sansa was determined to do well, and had tried her hardest to carry out every order with swift precision. Stannis had yet to grind his teeth at her, and she hoped that meant she was doing a tolerable job.

If she delayed for much longer that might change, however, so she stepped back into her heels, wincing slightly at the way they pinched her tender, tired flesh. She took a deep breath and returned to the meeting room with the file and the glass of lemon water Stannis had sent her for.

By the looks of things, the meeting was breaking up. A few of the men who had been inside the room when she had left it were now standing outside, talking to each other in low voices. She could see Sannis through the glass wall of the meeting room, still sitting at the table and obviously discussing something with the men and women who remained inside. She was about to rush into the room to hand Stannis his water and the file she had found, when she heard her name.

“... Sansa Stark, isn’t it? I’m not surprised. Who wouldn’t want her as his assistant? Shame she’s being wasted on Stannis.”

“With her around I’d constantly be dropping my pens for her to pick up!”

“Do you think he even notices those perky little tits?”

Sansa felt her face start to burn with anger and humiliation. How dare they speak about her like that? It was unbelievably rude! She couldn’t believe grown men would allow themselves to say such things about a coworker! She knew she was just the summer help, but _really._

Her anger winning out, she took a deep breath and started walking again, the loud click-clack of her heels against the hardwood floor somehow boosting her confidence.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said sweetly, “if I could just get through with my perky little tits…” she continued, her voice turning icy. She raised a challenging eyebrow at the men and lifted her chin, doing her best to look down her nose at them.

The men had the good grace to look sheepish, and the one she had quoted went a little pale, too.

“Sorry about that, we didn’t mean anything by it,” one of them said after an awkward silence.

“Of course,” she said, sweet as honey again.

They all moved out of her way quietly, and she breezed past them, opening the meeting room door and shutting it quietly behind her. Aware that the men outside were watching her, she went over to Stannis and made a point of bending over ostentatiously to put his glass of water down within his reach, and then she brushed his arm a little flirtatiously in order to bring his attention to the file she was handing him.

He had been in the middle of a sentence, but faltered at her touch and looked up at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. As she was bent over, he ended up with his eyes at the precise level of her breasts, and she could tell that he took a couple of seconds to look before directing his eyes higher.

Hah, there! She hoped the men outside had seen that Stannis definitely noticed certain things. For some reason she hated the idea of them judging him as if he were some kind of sexless robot. She hated it even more than the fact that they had been judging _her_ entirely based on her looks.

Stannis accepted the file, cleared his throat, and turned to continue his conversation with the others in the room. Sansa straightened up and did not deign to look directly at the men she could still see loitering outside the meeting room. Instead she gave Stannis her full attention, and tried to understand the current discussion.

***

For the first time in _years_ Stannis wished he was still married. He doubted it would have any effect on the amount of gossip that started up when he let Robert bully him into taking Sansa on as his assistant while Davos went on holiday to Volantis with Marya and the boys, but it might have given him the added discipline he needed to ignore how much he wanted to bend her over his desk.

She looked older than her eighteen years in her fuck-me heels and her sleek dark-grey dress. It probably had something to do with the way she was wearing her hair pulled back, and her face tastefully made up. Not that he was any kind of expert.

At least she was legal now. It was hard enough to deal with the guilt of wanting to fuck his eighteen year old assistant without the added angst of feeling like a pedophile while he was at it.

He sighed deeply and stood up to lock the door of his apartment and turn off the lights. He should try to get some sleep.

How in the seven hells was he going to make it through the summer?

***

Sansa had decided that she would be wearing flats for the rest of the summer. Her mind had been completely made up. But something happened to change her mind at the end of her first day when she had said goodbye to Stannis and turned to leave him at his desk. She had been on the verge of opening the door to his office when she remembered that she had meant to take his empty glass of water to the sink for him, and turned on her heel. She caught him looking; his eyes fixed on the spot where her rear had been located a second ago. He looked back at his computer screen quickly, but not quickly enough. Two red spots appeared high on his cheekbones, and Sansa knew he was embarrassed.

She didn’t say anything. She just walked back to his desk, picked up the glass, and left. On the inside she was making gleeful, delighted noises, and promising herself that despite the excruciating pain, she was going to wear heels _every day_ if it got him to stare at her like that as she walked away.

***

Stannis liked his work. He’d like it even more if he were in charge of the Storm’s End division instead of Dragonstone, but he derived a great deal of satisfaction from running things properly and seeing the profit margin increase each quarter due to his hard work. Stannis also liked it when it was summer. Summer meant that Shireen was with him. He enjoyed seeing her at the end of his day, eating dinner with her, reading to her and generally just spending time with her.

As the days went by, Stannis started to dread going to work. Sansa was turning his life at the office into a torturous game of ‘hide the erection’ with her endless parade of tight dresses and sexy shoes, her delicious scent that lingered in the air whenever she came close to hand him something or give him a message, and her flirtatious little looks and smiles.

Coming home and knowing that Shireen would be there was difficult, too, as all he wanted to do after a day of being sexually frustrated at work, was to crawl into bed and spend half an hour or so with his hand and his fantasies, trying to exorcise his demons. Instead he was forced to wait until Shireen went to sleep, trying not to be short-tempered with her because of his idiotic desire for a girl half his age. It was not Shireen’s fault, damn it.

Often he was coming all over his hand mere minutes after his daughter was down for the night. Visions of Sansa in her high heels and nothing else dancing in front of his eyes, a red flush of shame colouring his cheeks. Sometimes he brought himself off several times as if he were still an insatiable teenager, lying in his bed and letting his imagination run wild.

He was _pathetic._

***

About a month after Sansa started working at Dragonstone she was required to drag Stannis along to the annual company picnic where there would be ‘fun’ group activities and team building exercises. From the schedule she had received from the event organisers, the games and exercises planned ranged from actually almost useful to positively stupid and potentially humiliating.

As the big boss, she was sure Stannis would be forced to participate in almost everything; lead by example when the activities were actually helpful, and as for the stupid activities… Sansa thought it was probably his duty to boost morale by letting his employees have a bit of a laugh at the boss's expense in the grand tradition of company picnics everywhere.

She knew he would positively loathe it, but that he would probably put up with it for the sake of his employees.

What she hadn’t expected was that _she_ would get dragged into it.

“Now, this is just a friendly competition between department heads: a test of upper body strength and willpower!”

The man with the microphone in one hand, and an open beer in the other, was the same man who had talked about her perky little tits on her first day. She now knew that his name was Justin Massey, and that he was quite high up in the scheme of things at Dragonstone. She felt a strong sense of foreboding wash over her at his words.

Her gut reaction proved correct when her name was called along with a few others. She, a handful of pretty women and a couple of handsome young men, were all directed to lie down on the ground. Thankfully there were blankets covering the grass as Sansa did not want to risk ruining her pale blue sundress.

Next the department heads - Stannis included - were called, and directed to stand in front of them. It was strange to lie on the ground with Stannis looming over her like that, but she was glad it was him she was paired with, and not one of the other heads. She was secretly thrilled when she found out what the game was, although she was careful not to show it on her face. Stannis was scowling as usual, and looked tense and embarrassed when the announcer explained that the department head that managed to do the most push ups without collapsing on top of their ‘partner’ would win the ‘friendly competition’.

Sansa could tell that Stannis was about to protest. He was shooting her concerned looks, clearly worried that she would be uncomfortable with this. If it had been anyone else, she probably would have been incredibly uncomfortable with this game, but as it was… she _really_ didn’t mind.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” she told him in a low voice, smiling encouragingly at him, “it’s all in good fun, and I bet you can win,” she added, giving him a playful wink. Her heart was beating very fast, and she could feel herself blushing with excitement and embarrassment.

Stannis nodded jerkily, and started to take off his suit jacket and his tie. He folded the jacket neatly and placed it on the blanket next to Sansa. He rolled up his sleeves and undid the top buttons of his shirt, making his business wear as exercise friendly as he could. Sansa felt like she might drool. She had never seen Stannis in just his shirt with his sleeves rolled up, and she cursed the universe for depriving her of the sight. His forearms looked so _sexy._

Despite her words of encouragement, Stannis still apologised about three times as he got himself situated on top of her, getting ready to start the competition. Sansa just grinned at him, unable to contain herself. They were eye to eye, and Sansa was enjoying the chance to really appreciate the gorgeous dark blue colour of Stannis’ irises, and breathing in the unique scent that always surrounded him. He was staring at her with a pained look in his otherwise lovely eyes, and his mouth was clenched so tightly shut that she was reminded of photographs she had seen of lockjaw once upon a time.

A whistle went off, and ‘judges’ took their place near each couple to count the number of push ups performed.

Stannis sank down until their noses almost touched, his torso coming so close to hers that the heat of his body was tangible. She forgot to breathe while he did about four successive push ups, trying to gasp surreptitiously for breath when her brain reminded her that she needed oxygen to live.

In the distance Sansa could hear the announcer laugh and talk about how the first couple was already out of the running.

“You don’t even look like you’re breaking a sweat,” Sansa said after twenty push ups, suppressing the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl.

Stannis just grunted and continued to work, his lips coming tauntingly close to hers each time he sank down. She’d only need to turn her head a little, lift it off the ground maybe, and they’d be kissing.

His breathing was becoming laboured, although he was still going strong, and Sansa heard the announcer say it was down to Stannis and Rolland Storm: the last two contenders. Sansa was pretty sure Rolland Storm had been the one who said he’d always be dropping pens if she were his assistant, so she desperately hoped Stannis would be able to beat him.

Stannis was up to fifty when she noticed beads of sweat on his forehead, and nearing seventy when she noticed his arms start shaking.

She was staring at him, helplessly turned on, and not sure how to hide it. She was sure he’d be able to read it in her eyes and see it in the blush that was staining her cheeks, her neck and her chest. She had parted her lips a little at some point around thirty, and kept having to take deep, heaving breaths. She tried to time them so that her chest would not be expanding when he was sinking down towards her, but occasionally she got the timing wrong, and his chest came into delicious contact with her breasts.

At eighty Rolland Storm collapsed, and the crowd gave a cheer. One or two push ups later Stannis also gave up, although he rolled to the side without ever crushing her with his weight. This made the crowd boo and laugh. Sansa privately booed a little, too. She would not have minded if Stannis had collapsed on top of her for a bit. But she suspected that he could have gone all the way to a hundred if he had wanted to, and that he had only stopped to spare her.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he panted - out of breath from all the exercise - as he stood up and pulled her to her feet.

His white shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to him, and Sansa tried not to be too obvious about her appreciative staring.

“Believe me, you have _nothing_ to apologise for,” she said, her libido still in control of her brain and her mouth. As soon as she realised what she had said, she felt herself blush more deeply, probably turning about as red as her hair. “I mean, that was an impressive amount of push ups,” she hurried to add, giggling nervously.

Stannis blinked at her a few times and ran a hand through his hair a bit anxiously. She had only ever seen him do that when he was trying to explain a dirty joke Robert had accidentally allowed Shireen to overhear. It made her heart beat even faster to realise that he was feeling affected by the stupid game, too.

“Er, right. I think I have my gym things in the car. I’m going to go change into something dry. Excuse me,” he said awkwardly, fleeing to the parking lot without waiting for a response.

***

By the time Stannis returned to the picnic, wearing a plain dark T-shirt instead of his sweat-soaked dress shirt, he could see that the people in charge of the barbecue had been busy, and that most of his employees were already munching on hamburgers and hot dogs. He spotted Sansa easily. She looked rather like Scarlett O’Hara, surrounded by men who wanted to eat their barbecued food near her.

He couldn’t help feeling rather smug when she abandoned her admirers the moment their eyes met, picking up two paper plates and making her way towards him, gracefully weaving her way in and out of the crowd.

“Here you go, sir! I think you’ve definitely earned the calories,” she said playfully, handing him a plate with a hamburger and some potato salad.

No matter how often he told her there was no need for her to call him ‘sir’ at work, she still did it occasionally, and it never failed to make his cock twitch. This time was no exception, and it was worse than normal as his cock wasn’t really down from its previously excited state. Doing push ups on top of Sansa was probably the closest he had come to having sex in three years, and his equipment had been raring to go almost as soon as the whistle had sounded.

His usual workout routine only included about fifty push ups, but his raging erection had made it _vital_ for him to keep going, and not collapse on top of Sansa and give her a taste of how much he was inappropriately lusting for her. His ego had also demanded that he win after Sansa gave him that wink. He wanted to impress her, live up to her expectations, make her look at him the way she had first looked at him when she was fifteen; innocently asking him if he was wearing _armour._

“Thanks,” he muttered, accepting the plate and trying to drag his thoughts away from how much he wanted Sansa to want him.

“I took a look at the schedule and it looks like most of the games are done,” she said conversationally, “were you going to give a little speech?”

“Yes,” he said shortly, “after people finish eating.”

“All right, I’ll go make sure the microphone is ready for you. I’ve already eaten.”

Sansa walked off, and his traitorous eyes watched her go until she disappeared from view. He knew he needed to stop watching her arse whenever she turned her back on him; she had caught him at it at least once, and it was just not _polite._ But he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“You missed a hell of an opportunity during that game, Stannis!” Justin Massey had snuck up on him, his ever-present smile fixed firmly on his face. “We practically handed her to you on a silver platter, and you roll off like a gentleman,” Massey tutted, shaking his head and smiling even more widely.

“Was there something you wanted?” Stannis bit out, scowling at the smiling man.

“Just saying… if a woman like that looked at me like she was looking at you... “ Massey trailed off and bit his fist theatrically, groaning as if he were in pain. Stannis got the message and glared at him, offended at his impudence, but also rather intrigued despite himself. What was Massey talking about? How had Sansa looked at him?

Massey seemed to see the confusion Stannis was hiding behind his scowl and his glare, and he dropped his fist from his mouth and looked at Stannis as if he were an idiot.

“Seriously man, you’d only need to crook your finger and she’d be on her knees.” With that, Massey clapped him on the shoulder and went off to bother someone else.

Stannis was left standing stock still, frozen by Massey’s words and the mental image they had evoked, his heart hammering and his mouth completely dry.

He wasn’t an imbecile. He had noticed that Sansa flirted with him, and did not seem to mind when she caught him looking at her, but he did not actually think there was anything behind it. She was young… she probably flirted with everyone the way young girls often do. Just testing out her ability to turn heads and get attention. That was all it was.

There would be no crooking of fingers to test Massey’s theory. Absolutely not.

***

“Would you like a blowjob, Stannis?”

Stannis had been in the middle of taking a sip of water. It went down the wrong way and he coughed and spluttered for about a minute before he was able to stammer out a response.

“Wha - what did you say?” he asked, still coughing a little.

“I said: I like this job, Stannis,” Sansa repeated herself, handing him a paper napkin with a wary, amused sort of expression on her face. Almost like she was worried he’d start choking on his water again.

“Right. Good. That’s… good,” he hurried to say, feeling horribly wrong-footed and awkward. _Damn Justin Massey._ Damn him to each and every one of the seven hells. Why had he planted the idea of Sansa on her knees in his head?

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do everything you needed me to,” she said, worrying at her bottom lip in a way that had him surreptitiously grasping the armrests of his chair more tightly. Her words had his heart missing several beats, ( _Gods,_ he needed her to do so many things…) but he scolded himself for having his mind in the gutter, and tried to respond sensibly.

“You’re doing fine,” he said in a clipped tone of voice. He didn’t trust himself to say more. If he spoke longer sentences his voice would shake and betray the lust he was trying so hard to hide.

“Really? I’m so glad you think so! I know no one can really do what Davos does, but I hope I’m lightening your load at least a little,” she said sweetly, looking at him through lowered lashes and blushing faintly pink. Did she realise what an effect she had on him? Was she doing this on purpose? Was it possible to blush on purpose?

_I have a load you can help me with, if you’d be so kind._

_Oh! Of course, sir. Anything you need, sir._

_If you could just get on your knees and open your mouth?_

_You mean like this?_

_Oh, yes..._

“Stannis?”

He swallowed and blinked a few times, trying to bring himself back to reality. What was wrong with him? Fantasising in the middle of the day? With Sansa right in front of him? Was he losing his damn mind?

He cleared his throat, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened there. You were saying?”

“You must be tired, I space out like that sometimes when I’m exhausted,” Sansa said sympathetically, making him feel terrible about himself. If she knew what he had been thinking he doubted she would be very sympathetic.

“Do you want me to clear your schedule for the rest of the day? So you can get some rest?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” he snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone when Sansa flinched.

“I’ll just leave you to it, then. Here’s the list you asked for,” she said quietly, handing him a piece of paper.

He watched her leave his office, presumably to take up her position at Davos’ work station outside the door, feeling like a world class arse and cursing himself creatively inside the privacy of his head.

By the time he realised he should try to apologise she had already left.

Groaning, he hid his face in his hands. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

***

Ever since the company picnic Stannis had been acting strange. Sansa thought it might have something to do with the push up competition, but she wasn’t sure. He kept getting a strange sort of glazed look in the middle of their conversations, invariably snapping at her if she dared to comment on it. She had learnt to just ignore it, but it bothered her. She was worried that she had done something to upset him. Had he noticed how _excited_ she had been when he had been working on top of her? Was he uncomfortable because of it? She had tried to tone down her flirtatious manner at work, hoping to put him back at ease with her, but nothing she did seemed to have any effect.

She studied him discreetly in the elevator mirror, pretending to be absorbed in the files she had pulled for the meeting they were headed to. He looked tense and annoyed, and she wanted nothing more than to reach for his arm and try to soothe him with a soft touch.

Suddenly the elevator stopped, the lights flickering before going out completely. It was pitch dark for a few seconds before the emergency lights came on, casting an eerie glow on the pair of them.

“Again?” Sansa muttered, feeling irritated. This elevator had been on the fritz all week.

“I thought someone came in yesterday to fix this?” Stannis said, sounding just as irritated as she felt.

“They left a big invoice, at least,” Sansa said with a sigh.

“Well, I hope we haven’t paid them yet.”

Sansa giggled, amused as she usually was by Stannis’ dry humour. They fell silent for a while after her giggles faded away.

“How long was it stuck last time?” he asked at length, looking at his watch impatiently.

“About fifteen minutes, I think.”

More silence.

Sansa snuck glances at Stannis as he shifted around, clearly uncomfortable with the confined space they were trapped in. She wasn’t bothered by it. Last time she had been stuck with Steve from accounting; he had been incredibly boring, and insisted on talking to her breasts the entire time. Stannis was a vast improvement. For one thing, she wouldn’t mind so much if he started talking to her breasts, and for another, she liked how his scent was slowly but surely permeating the air.

“Stannis?” she might as well use this opportunity to ask him about his strange behaviour. He wouldn’t be able to run away.

“Mm?”

She took a deep breath and gathered her bravery up, piece by piece. “Have I done something to make you uncomfortable with me?”

He gave her a startled, guilty look. “What makes you think I’m uncomfortable?” he asked, avoiding her question.

“I just feel like you might be,” Sansa said vaguely, gesturing helplessly with her hand, “you get distracted and stare off into space…”

Stannis flushed red, clearly embarrassed. “That’s - that’s not your fault. You’re fine.”

Sansa couldn’t help but feel relieved. But her relief was soon replaced with curiosity.

“I’m so glad to hear that!” she said sweetly, smiling brightly at him, “but is something else bothering you, then?” Her hand developed a will of its own and touched his arm just the way she had wanted to a few minutes earlier.

Stannis looked at her hand on his arm as if he had never seen fingers before. She allowed her touch to linger for a few more seconds before withdrawing calmly. He looked at her face and opened and closed his mouth a few times, still red with embarrassment. She was intensely curious, now. What on earth was making him so flustered? Was it her? She sort of thought so, but didn’t quite dare to hope.

“No, it’s - er - it’s nothing,” he stammered.

She raised an eyebrow at him. She wondered if he knew that the problem with being straight-laced and decent all the time was that it made him a _terrible_ liar.

“It’s okay, you can tell me. Maybe I can help?” she said softly, giving him a look she hoped was persuasive.

“You can’t,” he said, his voice coming out rather strangled.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone, you can trust me,” she wheedled, touching his arm again, moving her thumb back and forth and delighting in the feel of the firm bicep under his suit. She looked up at him and fluttered her eyelashes a little, giving him a small smile. He was looking back at her in the most intense way… his blue eyes darkening, his breathing hitching and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. If she didn’t know any better she might have thought he was thinking about kissing her.

“It’s inappropriate,” he said, his voice an octave or two lower than normal and slightly hoarse. He looked guilty, but at the same time his pupils had now blown out to the furthest extent, and Sansa was hoping it wasn’t just because of the dim light.

When she registered his words her heart started to hammer so powerfully in her chest that she thought it might be trying to break its way out. Did he mean…?

“Tell me,” she said breathlessly, giving him permission with her eyes, trying to tell him: ‘it’s okay, I want you,’ without actually saying the words out loud.

He bent his head down towards her, and she made an involuntary little sound that was more like a moan than anything else, closing her eyes, parting her lips, and tilting her head into the most receptive position she could manage.

His large hands came up to rest on her shoulders, and she could feel his warm breath on her lips. She was sure he was just a second away from kissing her when the lift lurched into life, the regular lights coming back on, the normal sounds of a moving, functional elevator starting up.

They sprang apart as if they’d rehearsed it, both moving a step back in perfect sync. The doors of the lift opened, a soft ‘ding’ signaling their arrival on the floor they had wanted.

Sansa’s heart continued to beat faster than normal throughout the whole meeting they were only a little late to. It did not escape Sansa’s notice that Massey smirked when they explained that the lift had stopped again. It annoyed her that he was probably thinking that they had been getting up to something in the lift, but not as much as it annoyed her that the lift had started working before they had a chance to. She had seen Stannis visibly withdraw into himself as they walked to the meeting room, stiffening up and tensing his shoulders, not daring to look her in the eye. She might never be able to lure him back out!

Honestly, the man was like a prickly, frightened cat. All she wanted to do was make him purr under her fingertips, and instead he was metaphorically arching his back with his fur sticking up, hissing at her when she tried to approach.

***

Stannis barely paid attention to Storm’s presentation. His mind was in panic-mode, sirens wailing and warning messages flashing with neon lights. He had almost kissed his eighteen year old assistant. At work! In the middle of the _day._

The worst part was that she had so obviously wanted him to. She had practically _begged_ for it.

Knowing that she was receptive to him would make the rest of the summer pure torment. Up until today he had been able to tell himself that her flirtatious nature carried no meaning, that she was not more interested in him than in any other able-bodied man, and that she would probably be offended if she knew how much time he spent with his hands down his pants, wishing for her, fantasising about her, _craving_ her.

But clearly she _was_ interested in him. It was flattering and terrifying, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to puff his chest out with masculine pride at having managed to draw her eye, or hide under his his bed covers at home and pretend to be ill for what remained of Davos’ holiday.

He had been in the grip of some strange madness in that lift to come that close to kissing her. He couldn’t allow it to happen again, no matter how much Sansa might think she wanted him to. It was _wrong._ She was his employee, and she was much too _young,_ and she was Ned Stark’s fucking _daughter._

Stannis would just need to talk to her and explain that the Lift Incident had just been a mistake, and that they would have to keep their relationship platonic and professional.

Easy.

***

“So you agree?” Stannis was relieved. Sansa had listened attentively and nodded along as he had explained that there would be no repeat of the Lift Incident. It was the end of the day, and they were in his office. She had come to say goodbye and to collect his empty glass of water as she usually did at around five o’clock.

“I understand that you _can’t be seen_ messing around with an employee,” Sansa said, a peculiar emphasis on the words ‘can’t be seen’.

“Good,” he said, nodding once. He waited for her to turn around and leave, guiltily looking forward to the view - she was wearing a very tight dress today - but she stayed still, gazing at him with a meaningful look in her gorgeous blue eyes.

“No one can see us right now,” she said softly, biting her lower lip temptingly. Gods, but he wanted to be the one biting it...

“Don’t,” he warned her, narrowing his eyes at her in a reproving glare.

She pouted prettily, the plump lower lip he was still fixated on taunting him with how perfect it was.

“Oh, all right,” she sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “See you tomorrow, _sir_.”

Feeling ashamed, guilty and horribly disappointed in himself, he stood up and locked the door after she had left. Standing by the door he undid his trousers and wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping furiously and thrusting his hips shamefully. He was still seeing her perfect lips in his mind’s eye, still hearing the echo of that _’sir,’_ when he came all over himself, pearly strands of come ending up on his shirt sleeve, his hand, and a little bit on his shiny black shoe.

He breathed in a long shuddering breath and blew it out slowly, wondering when exactly he had lost his fucking mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This is how I'm picturing Sansa's idea of office-wear.](http://sarahtheblack.tumblr.com/post/132263616853)


	3. Texting

Sansa knew she probably should not enjoy the tortured grimaces and desperate glares Stannis threw her way ever since the Lift Incident, but she couldn’t help herself. Now that she knew that he wanted to kiss her, that he had ‘inappropriate’ thoughts about her, she was doing everything in her power to be as tempting as she possibly could; while still getting all her work done, of course.

Stannis had more willpower than she would ever have believed possible, however. Sure, he would go red when she did things like bend over to fix a strap on her shoe while standing right in front of him, but he never said anything. And he definitely didn’t _do_ anything -- except grind his teeth and ball his hands into fists.

Today was her last day, and she was wondering if she shouldn’t attempt something _drastic_ to get the response she was after. She was just trying to decide whether to ‘accidentally’ spill water on his crotch and then ‘helpfully’ wipe it with a tissue, or to perhaps spill the water on her own chest instead, when Davos unexpectedly walked up to the work station that was, in fact, his.

“Good afternoon! Sansa Stark, isn’t it? I don’t believe we’ve met. Davos Seaworth,” he introduced himself with a kind smile, sticking his hand out for her to shake. She took it without hesitating, and liked his firm, warm and dry grip.

“No, we haven’t. I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Sansa greeted, adopting her most cultured, polished tone of voice.

Stannis stuck his head out his office door just as they pulled their hands back from the handshake. “Davos?” he said, sounding surprised but not displeased.

“I thought I’d drop by to see whether there was anything pressing I needed to worry about for tomorrow,” Davos said, going over to Stannis and clapping him on the shoulder. “How have you been holding up? I’m sure Sansa had been doing an admirable job in my absence, hasn’t she?”

“Quite,” Stannis deadpanned, reddening slightly and shooting her a quelling look. _’Don’t you dare pull anything while he’s here,’_ he seemed to say. He really should have known better than to issue such a challenge. Sansa wasn’t Arya’s sister for nothing.

“Oh, I think it’s Stannis who has been _admirable,_ ” Sansa said, a hint of adoration in her voice, “I’ve only been able to do so much, and he’s had to work so _hard._ ” She fluttered her eyelashes at Stannis, taking a deliberately deep breath that made her breasts strain the fabric of her tight, off-white blouse.

“Indeed?” Davos said, looking between the two of them with a raised eyebrow.

Stannis had flushed bright red, and his eyes widening and giving her a slightly panicked look now. If he could have said it in front of Davos she was sure he’d be saying something like: ’please stop.’ She gave him a small smile and sat back down in her desk chair.

“I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, I’ll hold your calls for you, Stannis.” She made sure to say everything perfectly professionally. Except for his name. She often lingered over his name like it was sweet on her tongue, rolling it around as she would a savoured treat. It never failed to make him close his eyes and swallow noticeably. He seemed to like it even more than when she called him ‘sir’, and she had made him drop things by saying _that_ at the right moment.

“Thank you. That would be… thank you.” Stannis cleared his throat and gestured for Davos to precede him into his office. Sansa let out a small giggle when the door was shut.

***

“What was that?” Davos said in a low voice as soon as Stannis had closed the office door.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Stannis bit out, wincing at how unconvincing he sounded. He sat down at his desk, and tried to arrange his face into his usual scowl.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

Why did Davos have to be so damn perceptive? Why did Sansa have to make it so _obvious?_

“No, of course not. Don’t be - don’t be ridiculous.” Damn it. His face felt like it had caught fire.

“You’re the worst liar in history. Tell me what’s going on,” Davos crossed his arms, sat down in the visitor’s chair, and gave him a piercing look.

“How was Volantis?” Stannis asked, in a vain attempt at distracting Davos from the interrogation he seemed intent on.

“I’ll tell you over dinner tonight, Marya’s cooking. Stop avoiding the subject,” Davos said sternly, clearly not about to let Stannis off the hook.

Stannis made a note of the dinner invitation, but scowled and crossed his arms defensively. He glared at his friend, hoping to frighten him away from his line of questioning.

Tense silence reigned for one minute, then two.

“Are you two sleeping together?” Davos finally asked, blunt and to the point.

“No!” Stannis yelped, hoping Davos would only be able to see that Stannis was telling the truth, and not be able to see the guilt he felt over how many times he had fantasised about sleeping with Sansa.

“All right, no need to yell,” Davos said soothingly. like he was trying to calm a frightened horse. “But you want to, right?” Davos asked calmly, curiously, and surprisingly non-judgmentally.

Stannis froze, staring at Davos and sweating. He couldn’t admit that. But was his silence and his no doubt panicked expression not confirmation enough? Was there any point denying it?

“She obviously wants something from you, at least,” Davos said, sounding a little amused.

Stannis gave up. He hid his face in his hands and groaned, “I don’t know what to _do._ ”

“Tell me what’s going on, maybe I can help,” Davos suggested.

Stannis’ shoulders sagged and he blew out a tired breath. He moved his hands from his face and straightened up, making the decision to come clean and already feeling better for it. The whole story came pouring out of him, everything from Sansa’s first day, to the stupid push up competition, to the Lift Incident, and the torture he had been facing at work ever since. He edited out all the masturbation he was doing at night (and once at the office), but Davos was a man. He could probably guess.

“Have you tried finding an actual grown up woman to distract yourself with?” Davos asked when Stannis had finished talking.

“I don’t want a relationship with anyone. They’re just not worth the bother, and Shireen would get confused, and I don’t know any women who might be even slightly interested, anyway,” Stannis grumbled.

“Except for Sansa,” Davos said, his lips quirking as if he were trying to suppress a smile.

“She’s not really a grown up woman,” Stannis growled, annoyed with his friend.

“Yes, sorry, I’m just surprised at all this,” Davos said apologetically.

“You’re surprised? How do you think _I_ feel?” Stannis moaned, feeling rather sorry for himself. What had he done to attract Sansa’s attention? Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?

“I think you’re very pleased with yourself, actually,” Davos said, raising an eyebrow.

Stannis glared at Davos. That was not true! Except maybe it was a _little_ true. But it was impossible not to feel a little flattered and _powerful_ when a girl as pretty as Sansa wanted to kiss him. ( _“... you’d only need to crook your finger and she’d be on her knees.”_ )

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea how to help you. But at least she won’t be working for you from now on. Maybe a little time away will do the trick?”

“Maybe.”

***

Sansa took extra care with her costume. She would no longer be playing with the little kids at Robert’s costume party, and she wanted to make sure that the first time she and Stannis saw each other since she stopped working for him would make him want to tear her clothes off. She didn’t care that her family would be around and that they wouldn’t actually be able to _do_ anything. She wanted to knock his socks off. And anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to rub Joffrey’s nose in the fact that she was quite over him and not such a prude anymore. Not that she’d ever really been a prude. She had just played that side of herself up so that she wouldn’t be forced to give him any more sexual favours than strictly necessary.

With one last look in the mirror, Sansa grabbed the red hooded cape that went with her costume and hurried out to her little car. She had spent all of her earnings from the summer on it, and she loved it _utterly._ It was only a second-hand little thing, but it was such a pretty blue colour, and so cute. The freedom it gave her was worth every copper star she had spent on it, and she relished being able to go to Robert’s house on her own time, and not having to wait for her family to pick her up.

Now that she had started University she had more attention from boys that she really knew what to do with, but she wasn’t interested in any of them. It had been a couple of months, but she was still hung up on Stannis. Still determined to finish what they had started in that lift, still thinking of him working over her, his shirt sleeves rolled up, sweat on his brow, his warm, laboured breathing tickling her lips, in the moments when she rocked against her hand and bit back her moans, afraid of waking Jeyne, the girl who shared her dorm room.

Robert opened the door when she knocked, leering at her playfully and whistling. “Well, well, well! Don’t we look like wolf bait?” He chuckled at his own joke and swung the door wide open, bowing her inside.

“Thanks, Robert,” Sansa smiled at her godfather and walked through the door, swinging her little picnic basket merrily.

“There’s food and drink in the larger lounge, almost everyone is here already except Lysa and that new husband of hers,” Robert said conversationally, his words starting to slur just a little. “Between you and me, I probably wouldn’t have invited them if it weren’t for Robin. He’s Jon’s son, after all, and Jon Arryn is one of the best men I’ve ever known,” Robert rambled on, waving a tumbler of whiskey as he spoke.

“Okay,” Sansa said agreeably, hoping that Robert wouldn’t pass out before midnight. His drinking had been a little out of control since Jon died.

Sansa looked around discreetly when she entered the lounge, trying to spot Stannis. He was nowhere to be seen, however, and Sansa pouted. She went over to greet her parents instead, feeling a little awkward at letting her father see her in her little white dress, that revealed rather more cleavage than she felt comfortable showing to her father. Oh, well. She had known this would happen. Best to just ignore the fact that she was wearing a sexy outfit, and hope that her father would ignore it, too.

“Sansa, darling! Little Red Riding Hood, I love it!” her mother trilled, smiling widely at her daughter and giving her air kisses. Sansa returned the gesture and complimented her mother’s costume. She and her father were dressed as the moon and the sun. Usually the woman might portray the moon and the man the sun, but her mother and father had reversed the roles. Her father was dressed in dark clothes with silver accents, and her mother was all in gold, her red hair the crowning glory. Their Venetian masks made it clear what their costumes were supposed to be. They were tasteful, grown up costumes, and Sansa suddenly felt very tacky in her sexy get-up. She felt better when she noticed Joffrey and Margaery, however. They were both _much_ more tacky than she was, lazily done up as a doctor and a nurse. Margaery looked very pretty, of course, but she was wearing a store-bought costume. Obviously an expensive one, but still _bought._ Sansa had sewn her own dress and cape. She had only bought the socks she was wearing, high ones that came up to the middle of her thighs, and her high-heeled Mary Janes were store-bought, too, naturally.

“That dress is a little short, isn’t it?” her father said with a small frown, kissing her on the cheek and scratching her with his whiskers.

“Don’t be a bore, Ned, that’s just the fashion these days,” her mother said, swatting her husband lightly on the arm.

“I forgot to account for extra length so that I could hem it,” Sansa lied awkwardly, blushing slightly.

“It looks fine, darling,” her mother said, sipping her Champagne and giving her a knowing look. Sansa had been sewing since she was a little girl. She would never forget to account for the length of material that she would need to do the hemming.

“Oh, I agree. She looks just like a morsel one could swallow up in one bite,” a smooth voice from behind Sansa said. She turned to look at the speaker, and was surprised to see a man she had never met before. He was standing next to Aunt Lysa, so she supposed he was her new husband. He was rather handsome, though he was greying at the temples and he wore his beard a little pretentiously. But maybe that was for his costume? He seemed to be dressed as some old-fashioned gentleman dandy. He even had a cane!

“Petyr! How lovely to see you! How have you been?” her mother exclaimed, giving the man the same sort of air kisses she had just bestowed on Sansa. 

“Just fine, just fine. Wedded bliss, you know how it is.” 

Sansa’s mother went on to greet her sister, asking about Robin and how he was coping after his father’s death.

Petyr exchanged a cold sort of greeting with her father, but was quickly turning his attention back to her.

“You must be Sansa,” he said, reaching for her hand. She brought her hand forward, thinking he wanted to shake, but he brought it to his lips instead, brushing them over her knuckles lightly and maintaining eye-contact with her as he did it. She giggled a little nervously; no one had done that to her before! His eyes seemed to flash with a pleased sort of amusement when she giggled, and she noticed the odd colour of them. A sort of grey-green, she supposed.

“Yes, I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, recalling her manners.

“Petyr Baelish, your humble servant,” he said, bowing his head slightly. He smiled at her, and she thought it was odd how his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, though his eyes were glittering strangely with some emotion she couldn’t identify.

“I’m so pleased to meet you, Mr. Baelish,” Sansa said with a polite smile.

“Sansa, would you mind checking on Bran? I’m worried that he’s bored,” her father abruptly interrupted, cutting Mr. Baelish off just as he was about to say something.

“Sure,” Sansa said, knowing that her brother had broken both his legs a few weeks back and that he would be unlikely to be able to join in with the other kids in their rowdy games.

Her father needn’t have worried. Bran was sitting in his wheelchair, his casts on full display, with Shireen sitting by him and colouring pictures on the white canvas, happily chattering away. Bran had a fond, amused expression on his face, his handheld game console forgotten and held loosely in one hand.

Sansa was so focused on taking in the cute scene that she didn’t notice the other person who had been observing the same thing.

“Sansa,” said a familiar gravelly voice that had her blood heating up with just that one word.

“Stannis!” she exclaimed happily, turned to face the direction his voice had come from, already turning up the wattage of her smile so that it would be sure to blind him with its brilliance. She wanted to wow him.

He was wearing the same sort of suit he always wore for work, and wearing the same sort of scowl, too. It was great to see him, nonetheless, and she hoped it showed in her eyes. Her smile widened impossibly when she saw his eyes give her the once-over and darken slightly. His face reddened a little, too, so he clearly liked what he saw. She walked right up to him, invading his personal space and giving him the same sort of air kisses her mother always gave people, but adding her own personal twist of resting her palm on his chest in a frankly _familiar_ manner.

“So lovely to see you again,” she said, trying to give her voice a seductive lilt, “how are things at the office?”

Stannis had frozen as soon as she approached him, and was still standing very stiffly because she wasn’t really bothering to move herself away, letting her hand continue to rest on his hard pectorals and smiling her most dazzling smile. She was standing indecently close, feeling the warmth of his body in the air around him and under her hand. She saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down before he answered, and squealed in delight on the inside. She was making him nervous! He still liked her!

“F-Fine,” he stammered, trying to sound clipped and businesslike, but failing utterly. He took a step back, finally unfreezing.

She didn’t follow him, although it was difficult to restrain herself. It had been so nice to touch him and be near him. She was pretty sure he had liked it, too, as he was still red in the face.

“Do you like my costume?” she asked flirtatiously, “I’m Little Red Riding Hood.”

“It’s… nice,” he said awkwardly, obviously having a difficult time not looking at her cleavage. She had crossed her arms underneath it to give it a little boost, hoping to break his iron will and get him to stare.

“What are you? The _Wolf_ of Wall Street?” she flirted on a stroke of inspiration, “are you going to eat me?” she whispered innocently, twirling a lock of hair around a finger and fluttering her eyelashes at him. Sometimes she marvelled at her own bravery.

She watched in delight as Stannis clenched his jaw and thinned his lips, his hands balling into fists at his sides, and his pupils blowing out. Gods, that man was so _tense._

“I’ll look after the children for a while if you two want to go back to the others,” Aunt Lysa said, appearing in the room as if summoned by Stannis’ obvious desire for a chaperone. She was holding Robin on her hip as if he were a baby, and not nearly six.

“Thanks Aunt Lysa,” Sansa said sweetly, turning to head back the way she came, hoping Stannis would follow her.

***

Stannis followed Sansa in a daze, still rather shocked at what she had said to him. The mental image she had planted was a powerful one, and he couldn’t shake the vision of himself on his knees before her, those ivory thighs parted for him, her hands clutching at his shoulders for balance as he devoured her until she trembled and shook, cried his name and begged him to fuck her.

His eyes were irresistibly drawn to her thighs now, the small amount of skin visible between the edge of the red cape and her long socks, drinking in the pale, smooth glimpses of what he was certain had to be the most soft, tempting thighs in existence. That costume she was wearing looked like it had been dragged from some dark recess of his mind, purposefully to torment him. The fantasy of him on his knees before her was being chased by image after image of her in that costume, her white skirt pulled up to reveal _everything,_ bent over, or legs spread in the air… and those _socks..._ She’d have to keep them on, he decided.

As soon as they entered the room with the others he hurried to separate himself from her, walking over to the refreshments and searching for the pitcher of lemon water that was usually always there. His eyes lingered on the bottle of whiskey a moment longer than they usually would have, as he had the stray thought that some liquor might help his heart stop beating quite so fast, but then he remembered that alcohol lowered inhibitions, and he did not think his inhibitions should be lowered when he was near Sansa.

When he saw that Sansa was making her way towards him again, he hurried over to Ned, Catelyn, and a vaguely familiar man they appeared to be having a conversation with. Sansa wouldn’t dare say anything inappropriate in front of her parents, he hoped.

“Stannis! There you are. Have you been with the kids this whole time?” Ned said amiably, clapping him on the shoulder.

Stannis nodded. He’d been with the kids. And then he had been with Sansa, and she had asked if he was going to _eat her._ For the first time in his life he felt completely unable to meet another man’s eyes.

“Stannis? Stannis Baratheon?” The man who had been talking to Catelyn and Ned was holding out his hand. Stannis shook it and the man introduced himself as Petyr Baelish. Stannis had heard of him. He was some kind of hedge fund manager, and Robert had mentioned something about the man marrying Jon Arryn’s widow; Catelyn’s sister.

They all made dull small talk for a while, though Stannis’ contributions were minimal, and he was relieved when he saw that Sansa was talking to Robb, and not looking his way.

He was almost startled when he suddenly heard her voice, as he had become lulled into a false sense of mind numbing boredom.

“Daddy! Could you come over here,” she called, raising her voice only slightly so that it would catch her father’s attention. Both Ned and Catelyn ended up answering their daughter’s call, leaving Stannis standing alone with Baelish.

“I wouldn’t mind if she called _me_ Daddy,” Baelish said with a lecherous smirk.

Nearly all of Stannis’ being cringed at what the man had just said, but a tiny dark place deep in his psyche, nearly smothered and choked by guilt and years of repression in the name of being a decent, moral human being, agreed with Baelish and sent a sinful spark of pleasure down his spine at the notion.

“Don’t be obscene,” Stannis said curtly, glaring at Baelish.

Baelish gave him a shrewd look, his smirk widening into a shark-like grin. “I bet she’d say it very prettily, too,” he went on, as if he hadn’t heard Stannis’ admonishment. Stannis felt himself redden, and told himself it was due to anger.

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Stannis hissed threateningly.

“She’d say it with a little moan and a sigh, I think,” Baelish continued, only amused by Stannis’ fury, “Daddy’s perfect little girl.”

That was it. He was going to punch Baelish right in his leering, horrible face.

“What are you two talking about? Stannis looks like he’s about to have a conniption,” Robert chortled, clapping them both with such force on the back that they stumbled half a step forward.

“Just the joys that can be found in the bedroom,” Baelish said blithely.

“No wonder Stannis looks upset, then!” Robert boomed, roaring with laughter. Stannis’ fists were itching to hit something, but he held them tight to his sides, seething with rage and glaring at both his brother and Baelish in turn. Grinding his teeth and feeling as if he were about to burst a blood vessel, he turned on his heel and stormed off.

“Don’t mind him, he hasn’t had a woman since the divorce,” Robert said, explaining his rude exit from the conversation. Stannis didn’t hear if Baelish responded.

He went to stand by himself in a corner, trying to calm himself down and think about anything but Sansa calling him _Daddy._ It was crude, sordid, vile and everything that was wrong and bad. The idea had come from a man who seemed to be unabashedly carrying a pimp cane, for fuck’s sake. He needed to bleach the memory from his brain. He would _never_ have come up with anything like that on his own. Absolutely _never._

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Sansa walk up to him until she was right next to him and speaking. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?” Sansa asked softly, a note of genuine concern in her tone, “are you okay?”

For once she wasn’t trying to flirt with him, but she still _looked like that_ and he was suffering from some pretty intense inner turmoil. He didn’t need her around to make it worse.

“I just needed some peace and quiet,” he snapped. Sansa flinched at his tone, and looked rather hurt. He immediately regretted taking that tone with her, his heart missing several beats and then beating much too fast to compensate; as if it were frantic at the idea of having displeased her.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” she said softly, turning to go.

“Don’t...” he blurted before he managed to think better of it, reaching for her but stopping short before touching her. Wincing, he closed his mouth and dropped his hand. Sansa was looking at him with one eyebrow raised, but her eyes had regained their usual warmth, the awful hurt look gone.

“... go,” he finished awkwardly, scowling at his shoes. “Did you want something?” he asked, wincing again at how rude he sounded. He was completely out of practise when it came to handling her presence.

Sansa did not seem to mind his rudeness this time around, and she smiled beautifully at him. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. It looked like you were having an argument with Mr. Baelish.”

“That man is an obscene lech and I think you should stay away from him,” he said heatedly.

Sansa raised both eyebrows in surprise and Stannis snapped his mouth shut, his teeth clicking together loudly. Why had he blurted that out?

“He seemed perfectly nice when I met him earlier, and he _is_ my uncle by marriage. I can’t very well avoid him completely,” Sansa said reasonably, obviously fishing for more information on why she should be staying away from Baelish. Stannis started to grind his teeth together in frustration. He couldn’t tell her why he didn’t want her to spend any time near Baelish. It was too... too _pornographic_.

“He was saying things about you,” he said vaguely, “disgusting things.” He felt his face redden as he recalled exactly what Baelish said and how it had made him feel.

“And you got mad at him for it?” she asked, sounding as if she thought it was the sweetest thing she had ever heard, looking at him adoringly. His breath caught for a second at seeing her gaze at him like that, and he did his best to remember the expression so that he could recall it whenever he felt down.

“Any decent person would have,” he said, and now guilt was twisting him up inside. Was he a decent person? A part of him had agreed with Baelish. A part of him had _liked_ the idea that Baelish had planted...

“Well, now I’m dreadfully curious,” Sansa said, widening her eyes and smiling coyly.

“I can’t repeat what he said,” Stannis said immediately, terrified that she would ask him to.

“I’ll just go ask him, then,” she said innocently.

“No!” he exclaimed, loud enough so that Robb and Jon Snow turned their heads and gave them puzzled looks. Sansa looked at them and gestured with her hand to signal that everything was fine, and the two young men went back to their conversation.

“Can’t you just believe me when I say that it was obscene?” he asked, a note of pleading entering his voice the way it sometimes did when he was trying to get Shireen to go along with something and nothing else had worked.

“What level of obscene are we talking about?” she asked, warming up to the subject, “like regular Robert levels, Tyrion levels, or Justin Massey levels of obscene?”

Stannis could not believe he was having this conversation, but he couldn’t allow Sansa to go to Baelish and ask him about it. He had the horrible feeling that Baelish somehow _knew_ the guilty secret of the darkest part of his psyche, and he was worried that the man might have no compunctions about telling Sansa about it.

“Worse than Massey.”

“Massey once said I had perky little tits at the _office_ , was it really worse than that?”

Stannis glanced quickly at her cleavage when she mentioned her breasts, and felt himself redden. They were certainly very perky, but he’d say they were more than _little._ Perfect handfuls, he thought. He bit his tongue to make himself focus and look away from the soft, curved mounds, making a mental note of giving Massey a piece of his mind the next time he saw him. “Yes, worse than that.”

“Please, you have to tell me, I can’t stand the suspense. I swear I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t blame you for repeating something someone else said. Even if it’s _dreadful._ ” She looked alive with curiosity, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Stannis stared at her, feeling himself turn redder and redder as he tried to find words to either put her off, or explain what Baelish had said in the most delicate way possible.

“He said he wanted you to call him ‘Daddy’,” he finally revealed in a mortified whisper, watching her worriedly and wondering what her response would be.

Her eyes widened, and she blushed a bright pink. With a glance across the room at where Baelish was standing, she whispered, “really?” sounding shocked and delighted by how scandalous it was.

Stannis just nodded, his mouth had gone completely dry. This was officially the most mortifying conversation of his life. And he had grown up with _Robert_.

“Well, that’s not that bad, actually.”

It was Stannis’ turn to be shocked. What did she mean by that?

“I once overheard Joffrey tell his friends about all the places he was going to stick his _you know what_ in me once I stopped being - and I quote - ‘a fucking prude’, pardon the language. An older gentleman wanting me to call him Daddy is tame in comparison.” Sansa was smiling a sad, wry smile, and she sounded tired as she spoke.

It killed him that Sansa sounded like that, and it killed him that he had contributed to her experience of a world where every man she came into contact with was lusting after her within ten seconds, and saying vile things about her within ten minutes. Not that he had ever said anything vile about her. Out loud. He grimaced and realised he ought to say something.

“I hardly think he counts as a gentleman,” Stannis grumbled, unable to think of a better response.

“Maybe not,” Sansa agreed with an amused smile. She often seemed to think he was funny, and he usually had no idea why.

“Anyway, thank you for getting mad on my behalf, but there really is no point. It’s better to just ignore it. Or, you know, at least pick your battles.”

Stannis couldn’t understand how she could act so serene about this. Her uncle by marriage wanted to fuck her and have her call him ‘Daddy’ as he did it, and she talked about picking her battles?

“It’s nice, though, what you did. I like the idea of you as my fierce protector,” she said flirtatiously, touching his arm lightly, letting her fingers run down his bicep before falling away.

Phrases about the kind of beauty that could launch a thousand ships started to make sense to him. He could easily visualise himself going to war to protect Sansa. But he was being ridiculous, and she was being _impossible._

“Stop it,” he growled, more annoyed with himself than he was with her.

“Stop what?” she said innocently, widening her eyes and pouting up at him as if she had _no idea_ what he was referring to.

He gave her an annoyed look and she had the decency to look a little abashed. She perked up almost right away, however, and gave him a dazzling smile. “Can I see your phone a second?”

Stannis reached for it automatically, unlocking it and handing it over without a second thought. Sansa accepted it it and immediately started to create a new contact. Her number was in her personnel file, but he had never saved her information on his private cell. She was obviously remedying the situation, snapping a quick selfie of herself while she was at it, and somehow making it her contact picture. He didn’t even know how to do that, and it was _his_ phone. With a grim certainty he realised he’d be looking at that picture and bringing himself off when he was in bed later. It was inevitable.

“There, now you can call me whenever you feel the need to _protect_ me. I live in King’s Landing now, so I’m only a few traffic lights away,” Sansa said, somehow making the word ‘protect’ sound like a badly disguised version of ‘fuck’. “And you can ask me to call you anything you want,” she added with a playful wink.

… And now he was hard.

***

Sansa was a little shocked to hear that Aunt Lysa’s husband was interested in her _like that,_ but perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised. He did come to a costume party with a pimp cane, after all. She made a promise to herself to never be alone with Mr. Baelish, and to never say the word ‘Daddy’ near him. It wasn’t like she called her father ‘Daddy’ very often, anyway. Not since she was little.

She thought it was _very_ interesting how scandalised Stannis had been by the idea, though. He had acted like Baelish had said he wanted to do it with her right then and there, in front of everyone. She had a feeling Stannis was overcompensating for something by getting so upset, and she wondered if it was just because he wanted her, or because he _also_ wanted her to call him Daddy. The thought made her giggle nervously, and feel a rush of heat between her thighs. 

She had taken a bit of a risk when she had given him her number and said that he could ask her to call him anything he wanted, but his reaction hadn’t revealed whether her guess about the reason for his overcompensation was correct. He had just scowled like always, although he had turned faintly red, too. But she was sure he would have turned red no matter what after receiving her number and the most obvious invitation she had dared to give him. (If she had been any more explicit she would have been giving him a signed permission slip and a map.)

She hoped he didn’t think she was too brazen, but she really wanted him to know that she was available if he ever wanted to spend time with her. She doubted he would ever work up the courage to call, however. He seemed terrified of the idea of doing anything with her. She would have understood it if she were underage, but she was legally an adult! She was in University! There was nothing wrong with them doing something about the sexual tension that had been thick between them since the summer. And as she couldn’t even _think_ about anyone else while her business with him felt so unfinished it was really very cruel of him to keep her in limbo; unable to do any kissing with him, and unable to muster up any interest in kissing other boys.

It was a good thing she had sent herself a quick blank text message from his phone while she had been adding herself as a contact. Now she had his private number, too, and she’d be able to send him little reminders of her.

She was back in her dorm, sitting in bed in her underwear, slightly tipsy from the Champagne she had been drinking at Robert’s house, and wondering if she should send him a text right away. Would it come off as needy? Did she want him to know right away that she had his number?

Sansa glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand and saw that it was just a little after midnight. Stannis had left the party much earlier than she had, so he would probably be at home. Would he be in bed? Was he thinking about her like she was thinking about him?

A little uninhibited due to the liquid courage running through her veins, Sansa tapped out a quick message and sent it before she could change her mind.

_I’m thinking about you._

Simple, classy and _sure_ to get his attention. He’d want to know what she was thinking, and knowing that she was thinking about him would make him think about her! She played a mindless game on her phone to distract herself while she waited with baited breath for a reply.

_Don’t._

Sansa huffed out an annoyed breath and rolled her eyes. His flirting technique could use some work.

 _I can’t help myself._ She bit her lip as she sent the message, hoping it would come off as a little breathless with desire. She was sure that next he would be asking her to stop, but was surprised when the next time her screen lit up with a new message it was to display a question.

_Why?_

Now this she could definitely work with!

_Because I realised that you’re not the Big Bad Wolf, after all. You’re the Hunter who is going to rescue me and protect me, and I really need to be protected right now._

She hoped he remembered that she had used the word ‘protect’ as a stand-in for the idea of him finally finishing that kiss from the lift. And maybe something more...

_Are you really concerned for your safety?_

The doubt in his question made her hope that he wasn’t as dense as he was making himself out to be, and that he was just making sure that she was in no danger -- it was sweet, really.

 _I’m concerned I may simply die without your ‘protection’. ;)_ There, surely he would be able to crack that code.

Stannis didn’t reply for a while, so Sansa decided to send him a new text.

 _Do you want to know what I’m wearing?_ She giggled uncontrollably as she sent the message, sure that Stannis would go fire-engine red when he saw it.

_No. Please stop._

Sansa pouted. He was no fun.

Feeling reckless, and a little silly, she snapped a picture of herself that made it pretty clear that she was only in her bra without being _too_ revealing, and sent it. She had never sent any such racy pictures before, even though Joffrey had whined and whined for her to do so. It just felt too risky. She didn’t want pictures like that to end up floating around the Internet. But she trusted Stannis implicitly, and after the thrill of sending him this first picture, she knew she would be sending him many, _many_ more.

There was no reply, and Sansa hoped it was because his hands were too busy to type out a message. The thought of him getting off to a picture of her made her squirm around and blush, and she decided to perhaps have a little fun of her own.

***

Stannis was guiltily looking at the contact picture Sansa had snapped of herself, holding his phone in one hand and stroking himself with the other. He was shut up in his bedroom with the blinds drawn and the door locked for good measure - even though Shireen was with her mother - and he hadn’t even bothered with pyjamas because he had known he would just end up with hands under the waistband, anyway.

He almost had a heart attack, nearly dropping the phone, when the device vibrated and alerted him to a new text message. _From Sansa._ How had she got a hold of his number?

_I’m thinking about you._

He felt himself harden further under his hand at the words on the screen, impossibly aroused by the idea that Sansa was thinking of him late at night. What was she thinking about? Was she touching herself, too? No, of course she wasn’t. He was being stupid and blinded by his own lust. Anyway, she shouldn’t be thinking about him. She should not be texting him! She should be sleeping and leaving him alone to be a disgusting pervert in peace.

He sent her a quick message, keeping it as short as possible since he was typing with one hand. ( _Don’t._ )

He went back to her picture, tightening his hold on his cock, and imagined that Sansa was touching herself and thinking about him. 

A new message wiped the picture away. _I can’t help myself._

Stannis groaned and sped up his movements. Gods, she was _killing_ him. Thinking with his cock more than with his brain, he typed out a short question and sent it. ( _Why?_ ) Fuck, he really shouldn’t be encouraging her. He shouldn’t be replying to her at all!

_Because I realised that you’re not the Big Bad Wolf, after all. You’re the Hunter who is going to rescue me and protect me, and I really need to be protected right now._

Stannis tore his hand away from his erection, turned around and buried his face in his pillow, pressing his cock tightly against the mattress underneath him and moaning in frustration.

All he had been able to read in that message was: _’Fuck me, fuck me now!’_ The worst of it was that he was relatively sure that Sansa _meant_ for him to read that into it. She was such a little cocktease! Or did it count as teasing if she actually wanted to go through with it?

Stannis rolled back onto his back, his hand going back to his erection at once as if he were made of iron, and his cock was magnetic. He took a few deep breaths and tried to find some shred of reason in his lust-addled brain. Suddenly he was struck by a worrying thought. Was she actually in trouble? Was he perhaps reading her message as flirtatious when it was actually serious? He highly doubted it, but he would never forgive himself if she had reached out for help and he had been too busy masturbating to check whether she was okay.

 _Are you really concerned for your safety?_ he typed out, grateful for the autocorrect function.

He had barely managed a few desperate tugs on himself when her reply came.

_I’m concerned I may simply die without your ‘protection’. ;)_

Stannis was no expert, but he was sure that the emoticon Sansa had used meant that she was flirting. The quotation marks around ‘protection’ also reassured him that she was definitely not in any serious danger. Except the serious danger she was in of making his brain explode. (Or rather, causing a different sort of explosion all together.)

She was obviously exaggerating her need for his ‘protection’, but he couldn’t help being aroused by the idea that she needed him so badly that she felt like she was dying. He could sympathise with that feeling.

_Oh, please, Stannis! I need you so much, please fuck me. I’ll just _die_ if you don’t take me right this second._

_I’m not sure you deserve my cock…_

_Please, I’ll do anything! Just let me come, please!_

_Anything?_

_Yes, anything! Whatever you want!_

Stannis’ hand was working furiously as he imagined making Sansa suck him for _ages_ as she squirmed around unfulfilled and then finally fucking her so hard that she sobbed and cried for mercy.

His phone vibrated just as he was getting close, distracting him and leaving him panting and high-strung.

_Do you want to know what I’m wearing?_

His cock jumped and his heart skipped a few beats. Seven fucking hells! She was _evil._

He hurried to reply. ( _No. Please stop._ ) He couldn’t take much more teasing in the state that he was in, and he was worried that if she pushed him much further he would be tempted to call her and out himself as the pervert he was being by breathing heavily and leaving her in no doubt about what he was doing.

A very short while later his phone vibrated again, and his ground his teeth in annoyance, angry that she didn’t stop, and at the same time guiltily excited to see what she had written. Would she describe what she was wearing for him?

Both of his hands tightened around the two things they were gripping when he saw that the evil minx had sent him a photograph of herself. The hand on his cock sped up to a furious pace, as his eyes were glued to the glimpse of her lacy bra and the creamy, soft-looking tops of her breasts. But it was when he looked at the gleam in her eyes that he let out a drawn out groan and emptied his sac, his powerful orgasm covering his fist in several spurts of warm, viscous fluid. 

The look in her eyes was pure sin, and she had looked that way _for him._


	4. The Dorne File

Two weeks after Sansa started sending him pictures of herself Stannis was forced to call Davos to his office for help. He was starting to lose focus at work, occasionally having to excuse himself from meetings to collect himself in the restroom because Sansa would have been sending him dirty text messages and pictures, and he would have been stupid enough to open them.

“She keeps sending me pictures,” Stannis moaned into his hands, “even in the middle of the day!”

“What kind of pictures?” Davos said, looking intrigued.

“What do you think?” Stannis said, dropping his hands away from his face so he could glare at Davos.

“Sexy ones?” Davos guessed, an amused, hopeful smile playing on his lips.

Stannis gave him a look that said everything that needed to be said.

“Can I see one?” Davos asked bravely. Stannis did not dignify that with an answer, either. He just bared his teeth at his friend a little viciously. No one would ever see _his_ pictures of Sansa. She had given them to _him._ No one else.

“Woah, okay,” Davos brought his palms up defensively, “I can imagine them. Not that I will! Just, I mean, I can imagine what category of picture they are.”

Stannis relaxed his glare a smidge, leaning back in his chair and heaving a great sigh.

“I can’t concentrate on work with these constant interruptions!” he complained, feeling very pitiful indeed.

“You could try leaving your private cell at home?” Davos suggested.

“No, it’s the number that Selyse has in case something comes up with Shireen,” Stannis explained wearily. Davos ought to know that Stannis did not want Selyse to have access to his work cell number. As a rule he liked to keep his work and his private life separate, though while Sansa had worked for him he had been desperate to break his own rule. Now that she didn’t work for him anymore she was still constantly making him think of private life type things at work.

“You could block her number?” Davos suggested next, although from the look on his face he could tell that Stannis would not like that idea.

“That’s just avoiding the problem. I need to _deal_ with this,” Stannis insisted.

“Can’t you talk to her? Ask her to stop?” Davos asked, shrugging a little helplessly.

Stannis frowned and scrubbed his face with his hands, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “I don’t want her to…” he whispered, reddening with shame.

“Well, you’ll have to excuse my crude language, but it sounds like you just need to shit or get off the pot,” Davos said, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t!” Stannis exploded, angry, embarrassed and ashamed. Wishing he could just… not have this problem.

“Of course you can. Just take her out to dinner a few times and then get it out of your system, or call her and tell her in a calm, adult way that she has to stop flirting with you or you’ll tell her parents that she’s stalking you.”

Stannis widened his eyes and stared at Davos. He could never do that to Sansa. It would be incredibly mean-spirited of him to - as Shireen would put it - ‘tell on her’, especially since nothing she was doing qualified as stalking. She was a tempting little tease, not a _stalker_. If she were stalking him, he would definitely not be saving every single photograph she sent him so that he could look at them whenever he missed the sight of her. Not all the pictures were sexy, after all. Some of them just had her going about her daily life, smiling, making silly kissy faces or exaggerated grimaces or eyerolls in reaction to something she had encountered in the course of her day. It was amusing, sweet and endearing, and he couldn’t imagine telling her to stop. Especially since he _really_ liked the naughty pictures, and those would have to be pried from his cold dead hands.

But could he take her out to dinner? Like nothing was wrong with it? He’d look like one of those desperate old men, chasing after girls half their age to try to hold on to their youth. People might laugh at him and he _hated_ being laughed at. Or worse, they might _pity_ him.

_What a miserable sod, trying to impress that gorgeous girl. She could do so much better._

Stannis was grinding his teeth, frustrated, angry and feeling rather pathetic and sorry for himself. If he were still a teenager he would have liked to go to his room, slam the door, throw things and rage about how unfair life was, and how stupid and difficult.

“You think I could just… take her to dinner?” Stannis eventually asked, looking at his friend and hoping for some guidance.

“She’s rather young, but she’s an adult. Stranger things happen all the time,” Davos said reassuringly, “and the heart wants what the heart wants.”

“I’m not sure it’s my heart that wants her,” Stannis grumbled, making Davos burst out laughing. Stannis glared at him until he stopped.

“If that’s the case, maybe you should just invite her to your apartment,” Davos said, still a little flushed from laughing, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“That would be terribly presumptuous, wouldn’t it?” Stannis said, appalled at what Davos was suggesting.

“Depends on how racy those pictures are,” Davos said with a smirk. Stannis reached for a file from his desk and smacked Davos over the head with it.

“No, really!” Davos said, bringing up a hand to defend himself from the paper assault weapon, “if she’s sending you nudes then you probably don’t need to go through the motions of wooing her.”

“She’s never been naked in any of the pictures!” Stannis said in a scandalised tone of voice, lowering the file. What did Davos think she was? “... Just, not always wearing very much,” he added a little guiltily. Davos just looked at the ceiling for a moment.

“Then I think you should call her and ask her out, and give her the option of coming to your place for dinner or going to a restaurant. It will be in her hands to decide,” Davos wisely proposed.

Stannis thought it over. If Sansa insisted on making a public spectacle of them before possibly allowing him to ‘get her out of his system’, he could always just choose an out of the way sort of restaurant. They wouldn’t have to go to one of the trendy places where the likes of his brother and Loras Tyrell would no doubt see them. But wouldn’t that be like he was hiding her? Like he was ashamed to be seen with her?

Shouldn’t he be ashamed to be seen with her, though? Wasn’t this whole situation shameful? This was a terrible idea. He couldn’t possibly ask her out. He just _couldn’t._ And, anyway, he didn’t really like thinking about Sansa as something he needed ‘get out of his system’. It left him feeling off-kilter and wrong.

No. If he asked her out it would not be a date where he skulked around and hid her in the shadows. If he asked her out and she wanted to actually go _out,_ he would let her choose the place, and let the chips fall where they may.

If.

***

Sansa almost felt like she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend she never spent any time with, and never had sex with, but was still constantly on her mind. She fit right in with the other girls at University with significant others still living in another part of Westeros. She, like them, would constantly send her ‘boyfriend’ text messages and pictures of herself as she went about her day, and she certainly hoped that the other girls sent _their_ boyfriends some steamy pictures when no one was around to see.

But Stannis was _not_ her boyfriend. He was her ex-boss that she liked to flirt with because she was hoping that one day she would manage to push him over the edge, causing him to snap and finish that kiss they had almost shared. And hopefully do a little more than kiss...

Stannis often responded to her messages, but he never really flirted, and he never sent her any pictures. Instead he would give her short, clipped answers to her questions, annoyed requests to stop bothering him as he was in a meeting, wry comments, and very rarely: terse compliments. It had happened maybe twice since she had started sending him pictures three weeks ago. The first time had been when she had sent him a picture of herself, still in bed, half asleep and free of makeup. Her bedhead had looked so ridiculous that it had made her laugh, and she had wanted to share the joke with him. She had snapped the picture and sent it along with a few words.

_The birds will be moving in soon!_

His reply had made her breath catch, waking her up more thoroughly than three cups of tea could have.

_Lucky birds._

The second time had been when she had been trying to get some reading done, felt bored and took a silly picture of herself with her face half-obscured by her book. Only her eyes had really been visible and she had liked the way they looked full of laughter.

 _This book is eating my face!_ she had typed out, sending the message and the picture with a smile.

_Don’t let it get your eyes._

Maybe she was reading too much into it, but she thought he meant that her eyes were too lovely to be eaten by a book, and that she should protect them at all cost. The words set off all of her internal butterflies, and she floated through the rest of her day as if a million gossamer wings were actually lifting her from the ground.

At the moment Sansa was sitting at her desk in the dorm, browsing the web for articles she could use as sources for a history paper she needed to start working on. Her mind kept wandering, however, and she kept glancing at her phone. Should she take a few pictures for Stannis? Jeyne was out, so she might even do a few racy ones… He would still be at the office at this time of day, but that just made it more exciting!

Sansa was surprised when the phone she was eyeing contemplatively lit up and started to ring, but when she saw that it was _Stannis_ calling, she quickly moved from being surprised to being completely stunned. She only let herself gape at the cell for two more beats before lunging for it and answering with a slightly breathless, “Stannis?”

“Er, yes. I’m not interrupting, am I?” he said in his gravelly voice, the sound of it enough to make her breathing slow down and her blood warm up.

“Not at all, I was just thinking about you, actually,” she told him truthfully, forgetting to sound flirtatious because she was so amazed that he was actually on the phone with her.

“Oh?” Stannis sounded interested, but then he seemed to catch himself, “I mean, I called to ask you something,” he said quickly. Sansa wasn’t quite sure, but she thought he sounded nervous.

“I’m listening,” she said curiously, wondering what he might want.

“I - er - I wondered if you might want to… tell me where the Dorne file is. I can’t find it, and it looks like you were the last person to sign it out.”

For a moment Sansa had thought Stannis had been on the verge of asking her out, but his tone changed, and became businesslike and clipped. Disappointment flowed through her, cold and bitter, and it took her a moment to gather her senses and answer him.

“Have you checked the middle drawer of your desk?” she finally managed, remembering his tendency to stick things in there and forget about them.

She heard the noise of a drawer being opened and some papers being shuffled about.

“Found it,” he said brusquely.

There was a slightly awkward pause while Sansa waited for him to say something along the lines of ‘thanks.’ When it seemed no such politeness was forthcoming, Sansa rolled her eyes and did her part without him doing his. “You’re welcome.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he blurted, sounding more nervous than she had ever heard him sound. It was completely endearing.

Sansa suppressed the urge to let out a delighted squeal and took a deep, quiet breath instead.

“Of course I would,” she said happily, “when and where?”

“Uh, I hadn’t, I mean, I thought you might want to choose a place. Or I could order something delivered to my apartment.” His breathing was louder and faster than she thought was strictly normal, almost like he was hyperventilating a little bit. His suggestion that they eat at his apartment was blurted out so quickly that she almost didn’t catch it, but she had her phone pressed to her ear tightly, and she was focusing all of her being on listening, so of course she heard him.

She realised that he was finally ‘snapping’. A man would not invite a woman to his apartment for dinner unless he was hoping the private setting would allow for some intimacy. She might still technically be a virgin, but she knew that much. He wanted to have her to himself so that they could _do stuff._ She was sure of it.

Her heart started to pound frantically, and she felt like hyperventilating a little herself. Now that he was making it _real_ she wasn’t sure if she could go through with it. Flirting with him for the past few weeks had been fun, arousing, and _safe._ Teasing him over the summer had been the same. It was easy to let her inner sex kitten out around him, because she knew she could trust him not to be inappropriate. But now he was opening a door. A door that led to something more than pictures of her cleavage and her pouting lips. Something more than just thinking about him when she got herself off. He was a grown man… He would want grown up things, and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to say no, even if she didn’t feel quite ready.

She tried to calm herself down and think. He had given her two options. She could ask to go to a restaurant, somewhere public where they would not be able to do anything _advanced._ She’d still be able to flirt and tease a little, and maybe figure out his intentions before she allowed herself to be alone with him. _Vulnerable._

Sansa wanted him badly, but she didn’t want their fragile relationship to become damaged because of mixed signals or misunderstandings.

“There’s a small Myrish place that I’ve been meaning to try. It just opened a few weeks ago,” Sansa said tentatively, hoping he wouldn’t be disappointed that she wasn’t jumping at the chance to meet him at his apartment. She hoped he would understand that while she was excited by the idea, she was also a little frightened. She _knew_ Stannis would never hurt her, but she was worried that she would not be able to resist him.

“Dress code?” he asked, and she didn’t think he sounded disappointed. She resisted a sigh of relief, as he would probably hear.

“Casual, very casual. It’s a place near school,” she said and gave him the address, “I’ve heard the food is really good.”

They made arrangements to meet at the restaurant the following Friday night, and Sansa promised to show him around her campus after. Stannis hadn’t gone to University in King’s Landing, and had never really seen the grounds.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you,” she said after they finished sorting out the details.

“Likewise,” he said hoarsely.

A few more words of goodbye, and they hung up. Sansa went over to her bed so that she could bury her face in a pillow and let out high pitched squeals of excitement and nervousness.

She was going on a date with Stannis!

***

Stannis couldn’t believe he had actually done it. He had nearly taken the coward’s way out, making up a story about a missing file like some sort of imbecile, but then he had remembered that he was a grown man and that he needed to take the plunge and ask Sansa out or risk a slow descent into madness due to severe sexual frustration.

He was a little disappointed that Sansa hadn’t wanted to have dinner at his apartment, but he thought it was probably a wise decision on her part. As much time as they had spent together at work, and as much contact they had been in over the past few weeks, they didn’t really _know_ each other that well. And though he hoped she knew she could trust him, it would have placed her in a very vulnerable position to be alone with him at his apartment. The darkest part of him was very excited by the idea of Sansa in a vulnerable position with him, but the rest of him was glad that she was attempting to be sensible. One of them should try to be.

He was glad that she had picked a small, casual restaurant for their meeting. He had worried that she would want to dress up and go to a five star place where they would be seen by half the social elite of King’s Landing. It was a relief to know that she seemed uninterested in making a spectacle of their meeting. He hoped it didn’t mean that she was embarrassed to be seen with him.

The next time Davos came into his office he couldn’t contain himself.

“I asked her out,” he said quickly, staring at Davos’ face to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah? What did she say?” Davos looked mildly amused, but interested and encouraging, too.

“She wants to go to a Myrish restaurant near her school and take a walk around the campus grounds, after,” Stannis said a little anxiously, “what do you think that means?”

“I’d say that means she wants a chance to talk to you before you ‘follow your heart’.” Davos sounded very amused now, and Stannis went a little red as he recalled their previous conversation about asking Sansa out and how Stannis had let slip that it wasn’t really his _heart_ that was in charge of wanting her. 

“Am I being an idiot?” Stannis asked, rubbing his temples. He felt a headache coming.

“A little bit, but I don’t think there’s a man alive who hasn’t at some point in his life acted like an idiot because of an attractive woman.”

“Or man,” Stannis added, thinking of Renly.

“Or man,” Davos agreed, “ you’re not the first to fall for a pretty girl who shows every sign of being attracted to you.”

“I’ve hardly fallen for her,” Stannis protested. The words did not taste right on his tongue, however, and he felt a surge of panic. _Had he fallen for her?_

Thankfully Davos didn’t argue the point, as Stannis wasn’t sure he’d be able to make his case.

“Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about it. I think it will do you good to be a bit of an idiot,” Davos said with a smile, “just don’t go turning into Robert on me,” he added, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I don’t want to be an idiot,” Stannis complained, “and I refuse to turn into Robert.”

“If you’re so worried about looking stupid for wanting to spend time with a lovely girl who is interested in you, just call off the dinner. But is it really so important to you to maintain your image as a serious man who never does anything foolish that you can’t give yourself a break for one night and perhaps even let yourself have a nice time?” Davos asked pointedly, giving Stannis one of his piercing looks.

Well. When Davos put it like that…

“I don’t know what to wear.”

Davos laughed and shook his head. “Just wear what you normally wear. She’d die of shock if you showed up in jeans and a T-shirt.”


	5. Don't Stand So Close To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by the song [Don't Stand So Close To Me](https://youtu.be/KNIZofPB8ZM) by the Police. Many thanks to [Book_of_Kells](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_of_Kells/pseuds/Book_of_Kells) for pointing out how well that song fits this fic!

Sansa got to the restaurant early because working with Stannis had taught her that he was always punctual. The only time she could remember him being late to anything was because of the Lift Incident, and even then they had barely been late because - as always - he had insisted on going to the meeting fifteen minutes ahead of time.

She had agonised over her clothes, her hair and her makeup, but ended up with a look that she thought Stannis might like. Natural hair, light touches of makeup, a casual - but very pretty - wrap dress and stylish, high-heeled leather boots. The fabric of the dress was very soft, caressing her curves in a way that was tasteful, yet sexy (she hoped), and the colour was a light, silvery grey. Sansa thought Stannis might notice how she had only tied the dress with a simple bow, meaning that a single tug would unravel the dress, exposing her underwear. She had worn a very nice set of underwear, even though she did not plan on showing it to Stannis, just for the added confidence. Her own little secret of dark blue silk and lace, resting against her skin and making her feel sexy and grown up.

Stannis was already there, sitting at a secluded table and staring at the door. He stood up when he saw her, and she smiled at him, both to dazzle him with how happy she was to see him, and in amusement at what he considered ‘casual’ clothes. He looked just like he had always looked at the office, with the notable exception of his tie being missing, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt being undone. She liked it immensely, and was reminded of the way he had worn his shirt for the push up competition. (A memory kept fresh because she revisited it almost every time she touched herself.)

He gave her a quick once-over as she walked towards him, and she noticed him swallow thickly. She was also sure he clenched and relaxed his jaw a few times, the well-trained muscles flexing visibly. His eyes were dark and intense, taking her in and - unless she was mistaken - liking what he saw.

When she reached him she pressed herself against him in a brief hug, kissing his cheek and touching his arm flirtatiously. “You’re certainly early,” she said teasingly.

“So are you,” he replied, clearly a little flustered by her friendly greeting, but holding up well. He pulled out her chair and helped her sit down like a gentleman, handing her one of the menus that were already on the table. The waitress must have given them to Stannis when he had arrived.

They broke the ice by discussing the menu and Myrish food in general. Stannis had been to Myr once for a business trip, and Sansa managed to drag a few comments about the city, the people and the food out of him.

The waitress took their orders and there was an awkward silence after she brought them their drinks. Stannis sipped his lemon water and looked at her with a slightly searching expression on his face. She didn’t know what he was searching for, but attempted to look unaffected as she tasted her wine. She almost grimaced when it turned out to be much more sour than she had expected. Clearly this wasn’t the place to go to for decent wine; it was drinkable, but barely. Of course, her taste in wine wasn’t very developed, so perhaps the wine itself wasn’t entirely to blame. She preferred sweeter vintages that were easier on the palate. Sansa just hadn’t wanted to order something immature and sweet in front of Stannis, and she had needed something a little stronger than water.

“I’m really glad you asked me out,” Sansa said, breaking the silence. She felt herself blush a little at the admission, but she thought it needed to be said. Hopefully it would prompt Stannis to say something about why he had finally plucked up the courage to ask her.

“It seemed like you wanted me to,” Stannis said looking at his hands and frowning, his face a little flushed.

“What gave you that idea?” Sansa teased, smiling brightly. She was only really making fun of herself for being so obvious about her interest, so she hoped he wouldn’t take offence.

He looked up at her, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly into his version of a smile. “It might have been all the pictures,” he said, pretending to take her question seriously.

“I knew you liked them,” Sansa said triumphantly, her smile widening even further, making her cheeks hurt.

“I - yes. I suppose I do,” Stannis admitted, reddening a little more.

“Which one is your favourite?” Sansa asked, curiosity getting the better of her, “no, don’t say, let me guess! Is it the one where the book is eating my face, or the the one where my hair is like a bird’s nest? You only said nice things about those two.”

Stannis had tensed up at her question and her guesses, his jaw muscles working furiously again, his eyes looking a little panicked.

“I’m not - I’m not very good with words - compliments,” he stammered uncomfortably.

“So you’re saying that there are other pictures you liked better, but were unable to come up with anything to say about them?” Sansa surmised, looking into his eyes to see if she was on the right track.

“I liked them all,” he said quietly, giving her rather an intense look that made her press her thighs together and bite her lip.

“I’m glad to hear that, Stannis,” she said, saying his name the way she knew he liked. He closed his eyes briefly and gulped down some water.

Feeling a little wicked, she decided to tease him a bit. “But does that mean you have no preference when it comes to the amount of clothes I’m wearing in the pictures? Because if you like them all the same…” she trailed off, letting him figure the rest out on his own. If a picture of her fully clothed was just as good as a picture of her in her bra, she wouldn’t continue to go to the trouble. She gave him an expectant look, making it clear that she wanted an answer.

Stannis opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously at a complete loss and turning the most fascinating shade of embarrassed red. She might have taken pity on him and laughed off her question, but she decided not to let him off the hook this time. She was quite keen to hear his answer and continued to fix him with a wide-eyed, expectant stare.

“Sansa…” he finally managed, giving her a very interesting pleading sort of look. Not an expression she had seen very often on him.

“Yes?” she said encouragingly.

He blew out a breath and hid his face in his hands for a moment before giving her a resentful glare. “Are you really going to make me say this?” 

“Say what?” she asked innocently, sipping her terrible wine.

He suddenly seemed to remember that he might actually have some power in this situation as he straightened up and fixed her with a smouldering gaze that made her start to blush furiously. “I confess a preference for the pictures where you wear fewer articles of clothing,” he finally said, enunciating each word clearly, though his voice was low and a little husky.

His words sent currents of electricity coursing through her, and she felt the room had just become much too hot. She wanted to take a deep shuddering breath, but that would let him know beyond reasonable doubt how much he was affecting her, and she didn’t want him to know that he could turn her on with just the sound of his voice. So she made herself take calm, normal breaths through her nose, and gave him a flirtatious smile. She had got the answer she wanted.

She covered one of his hands with hers on the table and tried to meet his smouldering stare bravely. “I was hoping you would say that,” she whispered playfully, willing her blush to go away. They looked at each other for a few beats, tension thick in the air between them, and Sansa felt Stannis’ hand twitch slightly underneath her fingers.

“How come you never send me any pictures?” Sansa said, breaking the silence and changing the direction of the conversation. She removed her hand from his, picking her glass up instead.

His new, more confident posture faltered slightly. and he gave her a confused look. “You would want that?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?” she asked, trying to tell him with her eyes that there was nothing she would enjoy more.

“I’m not very photogenic,” he muttered, looking down at the tablecloth.

“Hm,” Sansa said digging into her purse for her phone and snapping a quick picture of Stannis, “I think you look rather handsome,” she said, showing him the picture. Stannis looked a little startled in the picture, but it only made his eyes appear larger and more intensely blue. His scowl was missing, and his neck was unusually exposed due to the missing tie and the two buttons he had left undone. It was all together a rather lickable image.

“I’m going to keep it,” she said happily, stowing her phone back inside her purse.

The food arrived before Stannis had a chance to say anything about the picture she had stolen, and they were quiet for a while as they tasted their food.

Sansa was very relieved when their dishes turned out to be absolutely delicious, as the wine had made her worry a little. It would have been awkward if she had dragged Stannis to a place with awful food! Stannis remarked that what he had ordered was very similar to what he had tasted when he had been in Myr, so it was authentic as well as good.

They had almost cleared their plates - and Sansa had finished nearly two glasses of wine - when she decided to make use of her slightly lowered inhibitions to ask Stannis a question.

“If we had eaten dinner at your apartment, what would you have wanted to do after?” She looked at him up through lowered lashes, and ignored the way she was blushing. It was partly because of the wine and partly because of the nature of her question.

Stannis froze for a second, but quickly reached for his water, busying himself with drinking to give himself time to think.

He cleared his throat and looked at her for a moment before looking away. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” he asked carefully.

Sansa looked at him and took in the way he was obviously hiding something. “Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ and smiling in delight.

“Well, then would you allow me to tell you later?” he tried, looking a little embarrassed.

“Promise?” she said suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes, just remind me," he said solemnly.

"I will," she chirped, making a mental note to ask him again later on. She was sure the answer would involve something to do with kissing, and she hoped he would choose to show rather than tell.

Sansa protested halfheartedly when Stannis insisted on paying for dinner, but allowed him to do it. He actually had a salary, for one thing, and Sansa was a little old fashioned when it came to dating. Not that she had much experience as she had only ever been with Joffrey. After him she had needed a bit of a break from boys.

The grand tour of the campus grounds took about half an hour, and as it was rather chilly, they didn’t dawdle at any of the ‘attractions’. Mostly they used the time to talk to each other, Sansa doing her best to get Stannis to tell her personal stories and details about himself, and telling him more than he probably wanted to know about her own likes, dislikes and life in general. He never seemed bored or disinterested while she was talking, however, and gave her his full attention. She could tell, because he looked the same when he was at important meetings at work, and someone was giving a presentation. It was a little unnerving to have Stannis’ be so focused on her, but also rather flattering.

When Sansa had shown him just about everything worth seeing around campus, they walked to his car. Sansa hadn’t driven to the restaurant, as her dorm was within walking distance, but Stannis still insisted on dropping her off at her place. Sansa was grateful for it as her heels were starting to pinch.

Stannis was lucky enough to find a parking space outside her building, and was all set to get out of the car to open the door for her when Sansa stopped him.

“Did you think I would forget?” she said playfully.

Stannis had opened the car door a fraction, but he shut it again and reclined back into his seat with a sigh at her words.

“I might have been hoping you would,” he grumbled. He didn’t really sound annoyed, though, so Sansa smiled at him and raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to go on.

“I didn’t really have anything specific in mind for after dinner if you had wanted to come to my apartment. I thought I might let it depend on what you seemed interested in doing,” Stannis began, looking straight out the windshield, but glancing at her out of the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction.

“What were you hoping for, though?” Sansa asked, leaning towards him and bravely letting her hand rest on his knee.

He looked at her at that, and she noticed that his eyes were drawn to her lips. She licked them quickly, and left them slightly parted and inviting.

Stannis looked torn, but after three false starts where he moved his head forwards a fraction and then back, he eventually let out an irritated growl, reached for her cheek and leant over to press his warm lips against hers, guiding her face with his hand and stroking her cheek gently with his thumb.

Sansa moaned into the kiss, amazed that it was finally happening, unable to believe how much better it was in real life than in her imagination -- and he wasn’t even using his tongue, yet! Maybe he was waiting for her to start? She tentatively licked at his lips, and was immediately overwhelmed with his response. He thrust his tongue in her mouth, pressing gently on her cheek to get her to angle her face so that he would have better access, she went along with it happily, opening to him without resistance, letting him curl his tongue around hers and trying to give as good as she got. He had shaved his face recently, but his skin was still rough and a little harsh against her own. 

She had plenty of experience with kissing, but it had never felt like this. It had never made her so instantly aroused and breathless, so willing to take off all of her clothes and be kissed like that all over. She felt like she was burning up, a fire deep inside had been lit and she could not get enough…

She was holding the back of his head and his shoulder, clinging to him and preventing him from pulling back when he tried; moaning insistently and trying to get him to bring his tongue back where it belonged. He humoured her and kissed for a little longer, but then he pulled back more insistently, and took several deep breaths.

“No, I don’t want to stop,” Sansa moaned with a pout, leaning in to kiss him everywhere she could reach, not caring that she was throwing herself at him rather wantonly.

“As much as I sympathise with your point of view, we’re not exactly in a very private place,” Stannis pointed out as a few KLU students walked past the car. He sounded strained, as if it were a challenge to get the words to come out coherently.

“Take me to your apartment, then,” Sansa said heatedly, still peppering his skin with kisses wherever she could reach.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Stannis said hesitantly. 

Sansa went for the jugular, finding his pulse point and sucking on it greedily, knowing that it was most likely feeling _very_ pleasurable for him. Stannis made a sort of yelping, surprised sound which quickly turned into a groan. (“ _Sansa…_ ”)

She pulled back from him, breathing hard and biting her swollen bottom lip.

“I want to keep kissing you,” Sansa insisted, looking at him through lowered lashes and trying to let her desire for more show in her eyes.

Stannis was staring at her, his eyes black and his breathing laboured.

“Please?” she tried, fluttering her eyelashes and giving him a hopeful, heated look.

Her ‘please’ seemed to have been the last straw. As if in a trance, he started the car and pulled out of the spot he had been so lucky to find, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

She left him alone and unmolested while he navigated the evening traffic to one of the older, more distinguished high rise apartment buildings in town. It was a limestone building, pale and flawlessly maintained. It wasn’t as tall as some of the new glass and metal monstrosities in the business sector, but it was beautiful, classic and no doubt terribly expensive. The building had all the modern comforts: an underground parking garage, a security guard on the ground floor, fast lifts, and state of the art electronic locks on the doors. Sansa was more impressed by the fresh flowers in vases situated at even intervals in the hallways. She thought it was elegant, and she told Stannis so.

“Wasteful,” he grumbled, “they have to be changed every few days.”

“I’m sure it helps keep the florists busy,” Sansa said serenely, not letting him change her opinion.

As soon as he managed to get his door open Sansa attacked him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him as he staggered a little, surprised by her weight suddenly being thrown at him. He recovered quickly, however, kissing her back and getting the door closed behind them; his fingers threading through her hair as he guided them over to a nearby sofa.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, and Sansa was sure that it was the best tangle of limbs that she had ever experienced. Half sitting, half lying down, kissing passionately and hands roaming everywhere… Sansa moaned into Stannis’ mouth, pressing her body closer and closer, wanting to feel the heat of him, the firmness of his body, and revel in the wonderful scent that always clung to him; a scent that reminded her of her father’s aftershave, but was not quite the same. It was close enough to be comforting and familiar and different enough so that she didn’t feel wrong being attracted to it.

She was hopelessly aroused, heat pooling between her thighs and making her ache for friction. Unfortunately she wasn’t able to rub herself against him the way she wanted to, not the way they were currently tangled. She’d need to get one of her thighs across one of his…

Stannis broke their kiss and hissed with pleasure when her maneuvering caused her thigh to come into contact with the bulge at the front of his suit trousers. Being in contact with it, knowing it was there, and knowing she was having such an effect on him was a heady power-rush of a feeling. Feeling very brave, Sansa brought her hand to the hard length that was pressing against her thigh and _touched_.

“Fuck, Sansa…” he groaned, his mouth close to her ear now, his warm breath causing a few stray hairs to move around and tickle her neck.

Emboldened, Sansa pushed and prodded Stannis until he was sitting up on the sofa, his thighs spread so that she could straddle one, the pressure of the powerful muscle against her aching centre making her whimper and rock herself against him, seeking friction and relief. Her hand was still covering the hard bulge the was straining the fabric of his trousers, rubbing tentatively. She looked into Stannis’ eyes, now roughly level with her own, and wondered if her own pupils were blown as wide as his. She didn’t get a chance to ask him as he kissed her again, their teeth clicking together because they were too eager and too out of control.

Before she could stop him, Stannis had pulled on the bow the held her wrap dress together, and it parted to reveal her bra to his hungry gaze. She shivered, and felt her skin prickle with the slightly uncomfortable sensation of goosebumps, the hair on her arms rising to stand on end. She told herself it was fine. He had seen her in her bra before, thanks to the pictures she kept sending him. It was all right if he looked.

She squeezed him more tightly through the material of his trousers, and his gasped and brought his hands up to touch her breasts through her bra. He was a little rough, and she made a soft noise of protest, causing him to gentle his touch. It felt good, then, and Sansa forgot that she had not meant for things to go this far tonight. She forgot everything as she rode his thigh, touched his erection and allowed him to fondle her breasts. His kisses were becoming more and more aggressive, as if he wanted to eat her alive, his teeth worrying at her lips and grazing along her neck, little nips and hungry licks at her skin making her moan continuously, her overheated body completely paralysed with pleasure.

She wasn’t sure if he would stop. She wasn’t sure if she could ask him to stop if he didn’t do it on his own; the greedy wishes of her body overriding the concern of her rational mind. Everything just felt so _good_ and she was so aroused and full of need for _more._ Her needy, desperate moans made sure he was fully aware of her desire, and the evidence of his interest was still pressing insistently against her hand.

Without thinking, Sansa started to unbuckle his belt. Stannis stopped kissing her to groan appreciatively, and he helped her with the fiddly clasp of his trousers. She didn’t need help with the zipper. He used the opportunity to discard his suit jacket, leaving him in his partly unbuttoned shirt with his trouser open. She liked how disheveled and messy it made him look, and it spurred her on, intense feelings of attraction overpowering her. Sansa was familiar with handjobs and blowjobs, and she wasn’t afraid to stick her hand through the slit in his boxers, setting his erection free, grasping it firmly and stroking it confidently. It was very different from Joffrey’s while still being the same. Joffrey’s body had been beautiful, and Joffrey’s cock had been perfectly straight and his golden curls had made it look rather pretty. Stannis’ cock looked bigger and angrier, the hairs at the base were black and coarse, and it had a slight curve to it. Sansa was both frightened and aroused by the sight and feel of it, and she loosened her hold to trace the veins that ran along the shaft with a bit of trepidation. She couldn’t really imagine all of that fitting inside of her

She tore her eyes away from Stannis’ erection in order to look at his face, and blushed when she realised he had been watching her as she had examined him. His eyes were glittering with something she recognised as masculine pride, and there was a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. She felt a fresh wave a liquid heat move through her, pooling wetly between her thighs and causing her to rock herself more desperately against him. How did a single look from him do this to her? She decided to kiss him so that she would have an excuse to close her eyes and hide her confused tangle of feelings.

Jerking a man off wasn’t rocket science, and Sansa had plenty of practise, but it _did_ get tiring after a while, and when Sansa slowed down to rest for a bit, Stannis seemed to take it as an invitation to push her off him and make her lie down on the couch. She went along with it, with a little mewl of frustration at no longer having the hard muscle of his thigh pressed against her, but her mewl turned into a gasp of pleasure when he replaced his thigh with his fingers. Her dress was open and he had unrestricted access to her body, her panties the only barrier between his hand and her folds. He rubbed a bit too roughly at first, but he realised he needed to soften his touch when she flinched away. The softer touch was _wonderful,_ and soon she was pressing herself eagerly against his hand, moaning with abandon, blushing all over and not caring because he was making her feel so good. She was getting _close._

If she had been in her right mind, she might have protested when he pulled her panties down so that he could touch her directly - impatiently pulling her boots off while he was at it - but she was reaching a state of being where nothing mattered except her approaching orgasm, and it felt amazing when his fingers touched her with nothing getting in the way.

“Seven hells you’re wet…” Stannis groaned, dipping a finger inside of her and making her buck up against him. She usually never put anything inside of herself as it didn’t really feel all that interesting when she did it, just sort of weird and squishy, but when Stannis did it she couldn’t believe how much she wanted it. The drag of his finger in and out of her wet passage felt _lovely,_ and she started to become aware of a powerful desire to have something much thicker than a finger fill her up. Especially since he was also letting his thumb stroke and rub the sensitive place higher up, sending jolts of intense pleasure through her, making her clench involuntarily around his finger as he pumped it in and out of her. She was a little embarrassed at the wet sounds it made, but Stannis did not seem to think they were disgusting at all, so she tried not to worry about it too much.

In an attempt to at least drown out a little of the embarrassing noise, Sansa moaned more loudly, and encouraged him to keep going. “Oh, _Stannis_ , it’s so good… please, more…” she babbled, not really knowing what she was saying.

He moved so fast that she was just realising that he had removed his hand when she suddenly felt him hovering over her, the blunt head of his cock rubbing up against her, getting coated in her wetness and gliding more smoothly for it.

Her heart started to beat even faster than it had been, hammering frantically inside her chest. Cold sweat sprang out all over her body, and she felt herself start to hyperventilate. She had been taking very slow, deep and aroused breaths before, so it was a big change that caused her to feel slightly dizzy. She had a difficult time making her brain work. _Was he going to…?_ She had to tell him to stop! She wasn’t sure if she was ready!

But, oh… he didn’t seem to be trying to push inside, and it felt so _good_ to have him rub up against her like this. His cock felt so much nicer than his fingers, and he was letting it brush up against her in a way that made overwhelming sensations of pleasure wash over her. Every time it nudged the spot that made a pulse of electricity course through her she gasped, and she couldn’t ask him to stop, she just _couldn’t._ She was right on the edge and she knew that if she just let him keep going for a little longer she would get there. Just a little more…

He kissed her full on the mouth, his tongue massaging hers in a way that was making her even more overwhelmed, and she couldn’t do anything except moan helplessly.

And right then, just as he kissed her so deeply and passionately, he lined himself up in a way that she didn’t quite understand on a cognitive level, but her body instinctively recognised. She tensed up, and tried to break the kiss to warn him, but she was too late. His hips pushed forward, thrusting his cock inside in a powerful, insistent movement. If she had been experienced, she imagined he would buried to the hilt, but as it was, he only managed to get the head inside of her. Sansa wanted to cry out in shock and pain, but he was still kissing her, and she couldn’t really get the air she needed to make a proper noise. All she managed was a startled sort of high-pitched whine from the back of her throat.

Stannis broke the kiss, but his eyes were closed and his face was a mask of concentration. She wished he would look at her so that she would be able explain what was going on with her eyes as she seemed completely unable to verbalise her thoughts. Her thoughts weren’t coherent enough to verbalise, anyway. She was full of contradictory emotions, excitement, fear and shock, pleasure and pain, eagerness for more and the desire to stop.

He was pushing and pushing, small grunts of effort escaping him, and it burned and felt so invasive and _strange._ She squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip, and tried to focus on breathing through her nose; tried to focus on anything but how much it _hurt._ She scrambled to remember everything that she had ever read or heard about how it was best to go about losing one’s virginity, but nothing was really coming to her. The books said that it was important to be really wet, and she _had_ been, so why did it hurt so much?

Suddenly Stannis’ insistent pushes yielded results. He was all the way inside, and the intense pain she had been feeling subsided slightly, giving way to a burning, throbbing sensation. She opened her eyes to look at him, and saw that he seemed to be experiencing pleasure so intense that it almost looked like he was in pain, too. His mouth was forming a small ‘o’, there was deep crease between his brows and his eyes were closed. He seemed to sense her looking at him, however, and opened them to finally look at her.

Stannis sucked in a sharp, shocked breath. “Sansa, have you never done this before?” he asked in a shaking, strangled and almost terrified whisper.

She realised her face was still set into a pained grimace, and she tried to smooth out her features, taking a deep breath and feeling relieved that he wasn’t moving. She was slowly relaxing around him, getting used to the sensation of him filling her, and it was becoming less and less strange to have him inside. It was as if her body was catching up with what was going on, and her hips were urging her to shift her position to welcome him, angling herself so that it would all fit better.

“Of course I have,” she lied, knowing that he would probably become too distraught to continue if she told him the truth, “it’s just been a while, and… oh, you’re so _big_.”

It had not taken her a long time to learn that nothing worked to distract a man like complimenting the size of his cock. It was how she had gotten out of being forced to deep-throat Joffrey when she would suck him off. Whenever he tried to make her, she would give it her ‘best attempt’ and then look at him and simper that he was simply too big and that she couldn’t do it. It had always worked.

Stannis actually _was_ quite big, so it wasn’t really as if she was lying _too_ much.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, sounding so sorry that she couldn’t help but forget the pain and smile at him.

“It’s okay, I just needed a little time to get used to you, that’s all,” she said, trying to make her voice sound flirtatious and playful. She kissed him, and he returned the kiss eagerly, his tongue helping her start to feel aroused again; especially when he found a spot on her neck that just made her want to _melt_ against him. When she moaned, he took it as a sign to begin to move, and she was grateful for how careful he was being.

His groans of pleasure as he started to slowly work his cock back and forth teased her body into producing more moisture, making the experience more and more pleasant for her. She tried to listen to her instincts, and moved her hips and widened the gap between her thighs as much as she could, pulling them towards her chest to cradle him, giving him better access. This changed the angle of his slow thrusts, and she started to feel small jolts of pleasure each time he filled her.

“Gods, Sansa… you’re so tight,” he gasped out, speeding up slightly, his breathing laboured and loud.

“Mmm, so _full._ ” she moaned, blatantly flattering his ego to distract him from the fact that his increased speed was making her wince.

He was thrusting hard, now, snapping his hips forwards and cursing and moaning each time he buried himself to the hilt. (“Fuck, fuck, oh _Sansa!_ ”) She tried to focus on the filthy litany of swear words intermingled with her name, because hearing it was deeply arousing and helped her withstand the increasingly demanding, forceful thrusts. She was clinging to him tightly, wishing that he had at least taken his shirt off because it was hard to get a good grip on the smooth material, letting out little gasps of pleasure-pain as he surged forwards again and again.

Finally it was as if he could no longer form words and he shuddered and thrust erratically a few more times, a meaningless noise of utter, sinful pleasure escaping him. It sounded ridiculously sexy, and made Sansa feel like she was giving him something precious and wonderful. Definitely worth a little pain, she thought as she experimented with clenching her inner muscles around him, even though it felt very strange.

He collapsed on top of her for a moment before pulling out of her and sitting up. His weight - while he had allowed himself to rest on top of her - had felt a little overwhelming, but pleasant and comforting, too. She probably would have started to have trouble breathing if he hadn’t moved off, but she had liked it while it lasted. The sofa was very narrow, and Sansa guessed that was the reason why he had chosen to sit up rather than attempt to lie next to her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sit up quite yet, so she just stayed where she was, trying to control her breathing and wincing a little at the uncomfortable, hot, throbbing sensation between her thighs. She wished she had something cool and soft to press against her, but she didn’t want Stannis to know how much discomfort she was in.

“Sansa, were you telling me the truth when you said you’d done this before?” Stannis asked her quietly after a little while, sounding a bit strained.

“Why would you ask me that?” Sansa felt herself blush. It was harder to lie now that she wasn’t under so much pressure.

“There’s blood…” he said hoarsely, deep concern in his tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... And this is why people should always _communicate_ properly before attempting sex. Explicit consent is important!


	6. A Conversation

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t thought about how she might bleed and give her little lie away. She could say that she was on her period, but the mere idea felt icky, and she didn’t really think her first time should be drenched in anymore lies.

She managed to sit up and wrap her dress protectively around herself, hiding her body from view. Stannis was looking at his softening cock, and Sansa grimaced when she saw that it looked like a crime scene. It was absolutely _covered_ in blood, although there was other stuff, too. When he noticed her looking he made a face and covered himself with his boxers. _They would definitely need to go in the wash,_ Sansa thought.

“I guess it was, you know, _technically_ my first time,” Sansa admitted, speaking very timidly.

“Please tell me I didn’t _hurt_ you,” he said shakily, sounding anguished, not meeting her eyes and balling his hands into fists in a way she had seen him do a million times before. “Tell me I wasn’t… tell me I wasn’t too forceful.”

Sansa blanched as she realised Stannis was seriously worried that he had forced her to do something against her will. That couldn’t be further from the truth, so she hurriedly brought a hand up to his cheek, turning his head so that he would face her. She tried to show him with her eyes that she bore him no ill will, and kissed his lips chastely.

“It was a little fast and overwhelming, but I wanted it,” she said steadily, looking him straight in the eye. She wished he hadn’t been in such a hurry, but she didn’t regret what they’d done. She had wanted her first time to be with Stannis since she was fifteen. So what if it wasn’t as romantic as she had pictured it? So what if it hurt a little? She had wanted him, and now she had him.

“I should have asked you, made sure that this was what you wanted… I just assumed… oh, _Gods..._ ” he said shakily, looking away from her and burying his face in his hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said soothingly, “I’m fine, I really am.”

“No you’re bloody well not fine!” he snapped, “I should have asked you before I started anything, and you should have _told me_ and then I could have _waited_ instead of attacking you on the fucking sofa like some sort of animal!”

Sansa flinched away from his tone, though she realised he was angry with himself and not with her. She didn’t want him to yell at her regardless of who he was angry with, and she felt her eyes start welling up, the emotional roller-coaster of the evening catching up with her.

When he noticed her teary eyes his face fell and he muttered a soft curse. “Sansa, please… I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

His apology only made her more emotional, and she couldn’t keep it in. She let out a small sob, and felt the first tear run down her cheek.

“No, please don’t cry,” he said with a desperate note in his voice, reaching for her uncertainly as if he weren’t sure if his comforting touch would be welcome.

It was very welcome, of course, and Sansa buried her face in the crook of his neck, enjoying the feel of his strong arm around her, holding her tightly. She didn’t cry for very long as she was just dealing with a slight overflow of emotion, and not any real sadness. She felt better for letting it out, and being so close to him helped, too.

She was reluctant to move out of the embrace that they were locked in, but she knew they needed to finish their conversation. He loosened his hold as soon as she stirred and made it clear that she wanted to sit up again. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry,” she said, sniffling a little and wiping delicately at her eyes and wondering whether all her mascara had just come off.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he murmured, looking at her seriously.

“Yes I do. I lied to you. When you asked me if I had done this before... I didn’t want you to stop, so I just _lied,_ ” Sansa said in a low, guilty tone of voice. She was relieved that she hadn’t cried enough to make herself sound like she had a head cold.

“I should have asked sooner…” Stannis trailed off, going a little red. Perhaps he was remembering how he had already been buried to the hilt when he had thought to ask her whether she had done ‘it’ before.

“You were busy,” Sansa said with a small smile, trying to find her flirtatious manner again.

Stannis glared at her without much feeling behind the look. He obviously didn’t think it was appropriate for her to make light of the situation, but couldn’t muster the will to scold her.

“We didn’t even discuss protection,” he said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe how stupid they’d been.

“I’ll drink moon tea tomorrow, and I’m not infected with anything. I got a clean bill of health when I started school,” Sansa said, trying to sound sensible and mature. “I assume you’re clean, too?”

Stannis swallowed and nodded, looking rather pale now.

They were quiet for a little while, thinking their own thoughts and processing what had just happened.

“I really liked it, you know,” Sansa said, thinking about how eager he had been, how _desperate._ It was flattering and exciting to know that she could make a man like Stannis lose all control of himself like that.

He raised an eyebrow, giving her a sceptical look.

“I’ve wanted you so badly for so long… it was nice to feel how much you wanted me, too,” she tried to explain, biting her lip nervously and looking at him intently, willing him to understand.

“Since this summer is hardly a very long time,” Stannis scoffed.

“I’ve wanted you since I was fifteen,” Sansa confessed with a blush.

Stannis made a choked startled sound and his eyes widened almost to a comical extent.

“Remember that costume party when I came dressed as a cat and I ran into you?” she said, hoping he hadn’t forgotten. He nodded, and she was flooded with relief. “I’ve wanted you since precisely then.”

Stannis was staring at her as if she had just told him that she came from the moon. “You were too young to know what you wanted,” he finally said, shaking his head slightly.

“I was old enough to get myself off to the thought of you that same night,” Sansa countered stubbornly, her determination to prove him wrong making it possible for her to speak of private, embarrassing things just so she could observe the way he drew in a sharp breath at her confession. He looked guilty, curious and more than a little interested, and Sansa smiled at him, feeling triumphant.

Because he looked curious she decided to elaborate. “I thought about how hard your body felt when I ran into you, and I thought about what it would feel like if you were on top of me in bed, pressing me against the mattress with your weight…” she said softly and hopefully temptingly. She could feel herself blushing at the brazen way she was speaking, but it was worth it.

Stannis groaned and closed his eyes tightly. “Don’t tell me that,” he said guiltily, “I really shouldn’t be thinking about you as a fifteen year old.”

“You made me so turned on just by catching me running that I thought I had wet myself a little,” Sansa continued, her embarrassment pushed to the side as she was too busy feeling wicked and powerful.

“Oh, _Gods..._ ” he moaned, opening his eyes to glare at her.

“So yes, I’ve wanted you for a very long time,” she finished pertly.

“That doesn’t excuse my behaviour towards you tonight,” Stannis bit out, clenching his jaw angrily.

“I _liked_ it.”

“I hurt you. You were just _crying_ a minute ago.”

“It only hurt a little and I was just a bit emotional. I’m _fine._ Anyway, you can make it up to me,” Sansa said suggestively, touching his thigh and fluttering her eyelashes at him. She was rapidly regaining the rest of her confidence and her equilibrium; it was suddenly _easy_ to fall back into her flirtatious role.

“What would you like me to do?” he asked immediately, looking very interested in the idea of somehow making up for his perceived wrongdoing.

“Let me clean up a little, and then maybe you can help me, you know, _finish_?” she suggested shyly, whispering into his ear because despite her confidence, she felt embarrassed to ask for such a thing out loud.

He flushed red and swallowed noticeably, but nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t take proper care of you earlier,” he said with a wince.

“Oh, but you did! I’m sure I would have _you know_ if it hadn’t been my first time. I was nearly there just from what you did with your fingers and… everything,” she hurriedly blurted out, not wanting him to think that he had been an unsatisfactory lover.

They both took the time to clean themselves up a little and change; Stannis donned his sleepwear and Sansa borrowed a shirt. Stannis apparently slept bare-chested, and as soon as she saw him without a shirt on, she felt a flood of renewed arousal -- despite her considerable soreness. He was everything her fifteen year old self could have hoped for and more; the planes of his torso flat and hard, his musculature clearly outlined and easily visible under the nearly nonexistent layer of insulation. He wasn’t nearly as pasty-white as she was, but though he had some faint tan-lines, his skin was still a shade of ‘office-worker’ pale. There was rather more hair than she had expected, dark and soft-looking against his skin. It grew thicker below his navel, creating a trail that she would not mind following downwards...

She may or may not have moaned quietly at the sight of him.

Sansa had already made herself comfortable on Stannis’ big bed by the time he emerged from the washroom and made her all flustered just by not wearing a shirt, and he paused at the sight of her, a peculiar expression on his face. He looked as if he weren’t quite sure if what he was seeing was real, and she observed him blink several times before he unfroze and joined her.

“If I had known you were inexperienced I would have behaved differently, please believe me,” he said, giving her a piercing look but not touching her.

Sansa knew he was telling the truth, and a part of her was a bit sad that she wouldn’t have the kind of first time that he would have wanted to give her, but she couldn’t really bring herself to regret what they’d done. Not _really._ It had been exciting, passionate and a little wild, and she was sure the mere memory of it would have her heart racing for years to come.

“Touch me,” she asked simply, not knowing how to put her thoughts into words.

The desperate need was gone from him, replaced with careful precision. He methodically unbuttoned the shirt she had borrowed, and she sighed with pleasure when he brushed the material aside, granting himself access to her naked skin. His reaction to the sight of her breasts was priceless; he gazed at her with absolute, dumbfounded, worshipful lust. His eyes were just a little wide: full of wonder and desire, his nostrils flared with each breath, his lips parted, but his jaw was tightly clenched. Once he had had his fill of staring, he let his fingertips brush her skin from the dip between her collar bones and down between her breasts, but instead of going on to cup the soft mounds or tease her nipples as she wanted him to, he started to retrace the same path back up. He stroked her that way - up and down - a few times, until she moaned in frustration and grabbed his hand, guiding it to her breast impatiently.

“I won’t break!” she said with a trace of laughter in her tone when he touched her breast as if his fingers were trying to impersonate feathers. “I like it like this,” she said softly, blushing a little as she demonstrated on her other breast. Kneading gently but firmly, letting her fingers brush over her nipple until it stiffened, and then pinching it lightly and rolling it between a thumb and forefinger. She bit her lip and moaned loudly when he copied her movements. Somehow it felt much better when he did it; his bigger, rougher hands were more exciting than her own, and she liked the way he was still looking at her in that worshipful way. She rather thought she’d let him do whatever he wanted with her if he kept looking at her like that.

Stannis brought his lips close to one of her nipples and kissed the skin lightly. “Is this okay?” he asked, watching her eyes carefully. She nodded frantically and gave him a breathless answer, encouraging him to keep going. (“Yes, it’s perfect!”)

The sight of him - shirtless and disheveled - fondling her breasts; kissing, licking and gently grazing her nipples, was almost as good as the delicious sensations he was eliciting, and as much as she wanted to close her eyes to enjoy the feeling of him spoiling her, she couldn’t make herself stop watching him.

Every touch of his lips and his fingers was sending sweet tendrils of pleasure straight down to her centre, causing more and more moisture to pool there and making her want to squirm around for friction. Her soreness was not forgotten, but it no longer felt quite as important, and she was starting to feel more than ready to feel his hand down there again.

“Mmm, please, could you do what you did earlier? With you hand? It was so good…” she moaned, feeling a little too shy to say anything too explicit. She hoped he would understand her anyway.

“Let me know if there’s any discomfort,” he rasped, trailing one hand down her body very slowly and carefully. Upon finding her wet and eager for his touch he groaned against her breast -- as if the mere act of touching her was making him unimaginably satisfied. Her breath hitched slightly when his fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves capable of bringing her so much pleasure, and he froze at the sound, looking at her for instructions.

“It’s good, it’s good,” she gasped out, “just gently…”

Emboldened by her encouragement, he coated his fingers in her own moisture and began to gently and patiently stroke her, finding a delicious rhythm that had her straining to press herself against his hand, almost lifting herself off the bed. She whimpered and moaned, begged him to press a little more firmly, go a little bit faster, delighting in the slow, steady build of her pleasure. He made everything even better by kissing her breasts as he worked, licking at her nipples in a way that made her inner muscles clench with need.

She had closed her eyes to focus on the lovely, coiling feeling, but she could feel Stannis looking at her now, and she fluttered her eyelashes open to meet his gaze. She had to look down at him as his head was still near her chest, but what she saw in his eyes made her breath catch and her heart skip a beat. His eyes were dark with desire, but they were also full of something much gentler, and it was the tenderness she saw that caused her sudden breathing difficulties. She had never seen him look at anything - except possibly his daughter - with such a soft emotion, and that was completely different. Seeing him look at her like that made her want to kiss him until she _really_ couldn’t breathe.

Sansa whimpered and reached to touch his cheek, exerting a little pressure to indicate that she wanted him to bring his head up near hers. He kissed her without her having to explain what she wanted; perhaps reading the need in her eyes. It was a much more controlled kiss than any of their previous ones, languorous and gentle as he explored her mouth with his tongue, letting her explore his in her turn. It was erotic and completely arousing, and combined with his fingers stroking her so perfectly it was too much. She started to tremble and moan loudly against his lips, until she had to tear her mouth away so she could cry out properly. She put her hand over his so that she could press him against her tightly, grinding herself against his hand and coming _hard._

“Oh, oh, _oh!_ Stannis, it’s… oh, _Gods!_ ” she cried incoherently as her body convulsed. She felt like her spine had melted, and her skin was tingling and hot all over. She whimpered when Stannis moved his head back to her breasts, biting gently on a nipple, sending additional jolts of electric pleasure shooting through her body, making her curl her toes and press his hand even harder against her.

She let go of his hand when the most intense wave had passed through her, but he continued to stroke her gently as she shuddered through her aftershocks, licking eagerly at her nipples the whole time, moving from one to the other with perfect timing. The fast flicks of his tongue against her sensitive nipples were _amazing_ and almost made her want to come again, even though she was rapidly becoming hypersensitive on top of being rather sore.

“I don’t want you to stop, but I don’t think I can handle much more,” Sansa said mournfully, sounding breathless and rather obviously like she had just been coming her brains out; her voice a low purr.

“Are you sure?” Stannis asked, his voice a deep octave that sent another jolt of pleasure through her, “because I was thinking about the question you asked me at the costume party a few weeks ago…” he trailed off huskily.

Sansa’s brain could not figure such a vague hint out in its post-orgasmic state, and she asked him what he was talking about, a hint of a flirtatious giggle in her tone.

“You asked if I was going to eat you,” he reminded her, his deep voice reverberating through her and making her squirm. The idea of his mouth on her down there had her panting, her body creating more moisture despite everything, and she couldn’t answer him because she was too busy whimpering and writhing around.

“I think I just might,” he continued, touching her nipples as he spoke, making her whine pathetically, “would you like me to?” he asked, a hint of a growl in his voice that made her press her thighs together and whimper out a succession of “yes” and “please” and “oh, Gods!”

“Just let me know if it’s too much,” he said softly, kissing her lips briefly. The sweet gesture turned her heart to warm mush, and she sighed with happiness and pleasure, going along with him when he pushed her thighs further apart. A tremor of eager excitement moved through her as he lowered his head to her mound, kissing it gently. No one had ever done this for her before, and she was curious, thrilled and a little embarrassed by it.

As soon as his tongue started to move against her folds she gasped at the strange, wet sensation. It was very different from both his hands and his cock, and almost too weird for her to really enjoy it at first. But when she got used to the sensation it started to feel _really_ good. His tongue was soft, wet and gentle on her sore, sensitive skin, and the steady, slow laps of his tongue soon had her tingling with pleasure. He never lingered too long where she was still swollen and throbbing from her last orgasm, and she was both glad for it and incredibly frustrated by it.

“Stannis, please!” she cried out when she felt as if she would stop being able to breathe if he didn’t do something more than lick at her with slow, lazy strokes of his tongue. He stopped for a moment, raising his head, and she whimpered desperately, trying to lift herself off the bed to chase his mouth.

His large hands came to rest on the top of her thighs, pushing her back down gently, and stroking them a few times to soothe her. “Patience,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice, making her quiver beneath him; half delirious with need.

He stroked her thighs a bit more, and she had to admit it felt nice. He moved his hands to grasp the back of her thighs, lifting them up until she had her knees in the air and her feet planted on the mattress. She was just about as spread as he could get her, and his eyes glittered with desire as he _looked._

She whined at him, sounding to her own ears rather like a needy puppy, and the corners of his mouth quirked into a hint of a smile.

Without another word he bent back to his task, his tongue working faster now, and focusing on the red, swollen flesh that most needed his attention. Had he been using his fingers she was sure it would have been too much, but his tongue felt lovely and soothing as it pleasured her. She heard herself get louder and louder, crying out his name as she came closer and closer to another climax. Unable to help herself she started to arch her back and push herself against his mouth insistently, but he grabbed her thighs and held her down firmly. When she began to tremble again - a hair’s breadth from completion - he changed tactics and _sucked_ gently on her tender flesh. She was so hypersensitive that it shorted out all of her circuits and made her actually, honest to the Gods, _scream_ with pleasure as she peaked for the second time.

As he had before, he helped her come down from her high by soothing her with gentle touches, this time using his tongue to wring all of the aftershocks from her. By the time he was finished, she was so relaxed and immersed in a haze of warm, delicious satisfaction, that she couldn’t move. Not just her spine, but every bone in her body, seemed to have melted.

“Mmmm, you’re stuck with me now,” she purred, “I’m never leaving.”

Stannis came up to lie beside her, wiping his mouth surreptitiously. “Is that so?” he said huskily, and she could hear the hint of amusement in his tone.

“Well, I can’t move…” she trailed off into delighted giggles.

“I’m sure you’ll regain the ability eventually,” he said, sounding serious on the surface, but still amused underneath.

“Oh, no. I don’t think so. You’ll just have to let me stay in your bed forever,” she said, making her voice as suggestive as she could. (Not a difficult feat considering how utterly satisfied she was. Her voice would have dripped with sex no matter what.)

“I’m afraid that would be impossible,” Stannis said strictly, “I couldn’t just let you stay. You’d have to earn your keep.”

Sansa let out more delighted giggles, happy that Stannis was playing along with her, flirting with more ease than she would ever have expected of him.

“I’d be happy to earn my keep in any way that you would see fit,” she said breathlessly, fluttering her eyelashes at Stannis in an exaggerated way. He groaned in response and got up on one elbow so that he could lean over her and kiss her deeply. She tasted something strange, tangy and musky on his tongue, and realised that it was the taste of her own arousal. It made her blush and her heart beat harder in her chest.

“I have half a mind to hold you to that,” he whispered heatedly in her ear when he had finished devouring her mouth.

“I’m free tomorrow,” Sansa said playfully, breathing a little faster at the idea of staying in bed for the foreseeable future and just doing whatever Stannis wanted.

He groaned again, sounding tempted, frustrated and aroused. “As much as I would like that, you ought to rest for a while.”

She pouted, but knew that he was right. She was still sore and would probably not enjoy some kind of sex marathon. Still, she wanted to stay with him and touch him and have him touch her. There were plenty of other things to do, after all…

“My mouth isn’t tired,” she whispered seductively, hoping he would understand the offer. Judging by the strangled sound he made in response to her whisper he understood very well, and was _very_ aroused by the idea. “You could ask me to ‘earn my keep’ as often as you wanted…” she went on, wanting to make sure that he’d let her stay.

“Seven hells, Sansa…” he groaned, turning his body towards her, pressing something hard and hot against her thigh and rubbing himself against her needily. Sansa let out a small surprised sound that quickly changed into a pleased moan. She loved that he was hard for her again, and she loved the feel of him drilling into her thigh. As much as Joffrey had always whined about her letting him go all the way with her, she had never felt quite as viscerally _desired_ as she had since she entered Stannis’ apartment.

“I could do it now, if you want,” she tempted, deliberately moving her thigh against him to give him a little friction. “I’m curious about what you taste like. Just tell me to stop if you don’t like it,” Sansa said brightly, sensing that he would have a difficult time telling her that he wanted her to do this. He had gone quite red, and seemed relieved when she simply told him what she was going to do instead of waiting for him to tell her he wanted it. Anyway, he didn’t need to say anything; his black eyes, parted lips and quick breathing were telling her everything she needed to know.

She moved herself down his body, kissing him as she went, lingering over his torso for a good long time. Obviously she needed to give him time to protest if he changed his mind and no longer wanted her to go down on him, but also he had extremely sexy abs that she had been fantasising about for a few years, and she felt she deserved a chance to kiss them all over. It had been a long difficult wait, after all.

It was his turn to squirm around as she took her time, kissing and licking his chest and his abdomen with considerable relish. He tasted faintly of clean sweat, and she thought she could smell vague hints of soap. The dark hairs that dusted his pectorals and grew thickly in a narrow line below his navel did not bother her, in fact she entertained herself by touching the soft hairs and pulling very gently on them. Joffrey had been completely bare, and everything that was different from Joffrey was wonderful in her book. Stannis hissed out a breath the first time she tugged a little on his hairs, but she could tell that he liked it.

By the time she was licking the area right above the low-slung waistband of his pyjama bottoms Stannis was doing a manly version of whimpering, which consisted of breathing very loudly with a slight whine thrown in. She took pity on him and started to stroke his erection through the material that covered it, moving herself into a more comfortable position for what she was about to do. Stannis lifted his hips while her hand was only halfway to his waistband; her obvious intent to pull the cotton sleepwear down and out of the way inspiring him to be prematurely helpful. She didn’t mind as the way he was lifting himself made his abdominal muscles tighten and flex in a very interesting way, and she quite enjoyed the view.

His jutting erection was revealed to her again, looking very big and aggressive, and Sansa wondered how she was going to manage this. She doubted she would be able to fit very much of him in her mouth at a time, but she knew how to compensate for that with her hand, and she hoped he would not mind her doing it that way.

“Okay?” she asked softly, making sure he was still on board. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down conspicuously, and nodded a little jerkily. His chest was moving up and down rapidly, and she noticed that he was holding on to the covers by the fistful, his knuckles turning white. She wondered when anyone had done this for him last, but decided not to ask. It wasn’t any of her business.

She kissed the very tip of his cock, and as soon as she did he let out a strangled moan; almost as if he had been holding it in for a while. Sansa smiled to herself and grabbed hold of he base so that she could steer him, because the cock in front of her kept twitching and jumping at random moments. It was satisfying to wrap her fingers around him, and he felt good in her hand. Warm and smooth to the touch. The wiry curls at the base tickled her, but she ignored the sensation in favour of giving the tip another kiss -- this time with tongue. Stannis let out a long shuddering breath, and she _loved_ the sound of it. Joffrey had never really let out any encouraging sounds when she had done this for him, he had only ordered her about and then grunted when he came. It had always felt rather humiliating and awful, so she had tried to get away with doing it very seldomly.

When she started to swirl her tongue around the head as if she were enjoying an ice cream cone, and slowly moving her hand up and down the shaft, Stannis moaned her name in a way that managed to set her skin on fire all over again. She looked up at him with the head of his cock in her mouth, and saw that he was looking at her, too. The second their eyes met he seemed to stop breathing, his eyes absolutely glazed over with arousal. He seemed to really like seeing her looking up at him, so she continued to look as she stopped what she had been doing in order to lick him from the base and all the way to the tip several times.

“Sansa… oh… _fuck..._ ” Stannis moaned, taking several breaths between words. He was still staring at her, and he had the same look in his eyes as he’d had when he had first seen her in his bed, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. If her mouth hadn’t been busy she would have smiled, but perhaps the smile could still be seen in her eyes? She hoped so.

It was strange how the taste of him was changing now that clear droplets of liquid were seeping from the head of his cock. At first he had tasted nearly of nothing, and the musky scent that clung to him had been mild, too. Sansa thought that was probably because of the vigorous scrub he must have had to give himself to get rid of the earlier crime scene. He tasted much more salty now that he was leaking at the tip, and she thought it was a little like the way her own skin tasted when she was rather sweaty; except there was an additional taste that she could not really name mixed in, too.

She started to stroke him with her hand again, enjoying the way his skin moved along with her over the hardness underneath, watching as the head was alternately exposed and then hidden again, fresh droplets of clear liquid emerging from the divot on every upstroke. She did this for a while, licking the droplets away as they arrived, keeping the movement of her hand steady and her grip firm. Stannis liked what she was doing judging by the sounds he was making, but there was a hint of that desperate whine to his voice that told her that he needed _more._ She knew what he wanted, and when she could hear him panting for her she gave it to him.

Looking him straight in the eyes again, she wrapped her lips around the head and _sucked._

Stannis groaned more loudly than ever before, and his hips jerked up towards her, pushing his cock a little further into her mouth. She had expected something like that to happen, and she used it as an opportunity to start bobbing her head over him, sucking him into her mouth as far as he would go without making her gag, and then licking him on the way back. She sped up the movements of her hand a little, and broke eye contact with him so that she could focus properly. Looking at him was _distracting._ He looked so far gone with lust that she had never seen the like of it; his eyes heavy lidded, dark and glazed over, perspiration making his skin glisten slightly in the dim light of his bedroom, his mouth open in an ‘o’ of pleasure, and broken, tortured moans escaping him continuously. It was wildly arousing to see him like that, and made her want his thigh back between her legs.

It did not take him very long to come after she had sped up and started to take more of him into her mouth, sucking eagerly and keeping her teeth well away. She had to be careful not to let the slight jerks of his hips catch her at the wrong moment, and so far she had managed not to gag even once, but as he started to climax - his voice a hoarse cry for her - his hips started to move erratically, and she was forced to pull back a little so that she wouldn’t choke on him. Hot, salty liquid filled her mouth in wet spurts, and she tried to swallow as quickly as she could. There wasn’t too much of it, thankfully; probably because he already came once before when he had been buried deep inside of her. She’d definitely have to remember to drink moon tea tomorrow.

She tried to catch his eye again as she gently licked him clean, but he had his eyes squeezed shut. He was breathing heavily through his open mouth, and his brow was furrowed in a way she assumed meant he was experiencing an intense amount of pleasure. She continued to lick at him playfully and look at him, and was a little startled when he finally let go of the covers - leaving some serious wrinkles behind in the fabric - to stroke her hair. He opened his eyes when she made a soft sound of surprise at the sudden sensation of his fingers combing through her hair, but his worried look went away quickly enough when she started to sigh with pleasure.

“Come here,” he said hoarsely.

Sansa rested her head on his chest and loved the way he continued to stroke her hair, focusing on her scalp more and more - because that made her moan - until he was giving her an approximation of a lazy scalp massage and she was practically purring like a happy cat.

“I’m definitely never leaving,” she mumbled against his chest.

“Good,” he rasped, “after what you just did I am never letting you go.”

“So you liked it?” she asked, shamelessly fishing for compliments.

“I already told you. I am seriously considering whether I can get away with keeping you locked in my bedroom forever,” he said bemusedly, clearly still on his post-orgasmic high.

“What would you say when my family started looking for me?” she asked curiously, drawing circles on his shoulder with a finger.

Stannis didn’t even need to think it over. “They wouldn’t look for you. You’d still talk to them over the Internet and they would have no reason to suspect that you were being kept as a pet in my bedroom.”

“That was a quick answer,” Sansa giggled.

“Er… it was an easy question. Simple solution.”

“Thought about this before?”

“No.”

“You’re so bad at lying that it’s embarrassing.”

Stannis squeezed her with the arm that was holding her to his chest instead of replying.

“So have you thought about keeping me as your pet often?”

“... No.”

“Wow! That often, huh?”

“Stop it.”

“Would I have a little collar?”

“Sansa…”

“Fixed to a little chain?”

“Oh, Gods.”

“My, you are all _kinds_ of kinky.”

Sansa had risen up to look at his face as she teased him, enjoying the way he kept turning a deeper shade of red and widening his eyes in horror.

“Oh, don’t look so worried. I’m only teasing,” she said with a smile, kissing him quickly to reassure him.

He relaxed a little, but still looked flushed and embarrassed.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush lying around, would you?” Sansa asked, changing the subject to give him a bit of a break. She was getting very tired, and all she really wanted to do was snuggle up against him and sleep until her body woke up naturally.

“I think there are some things in the guest bathroom…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be getting a peek into Stannis' thoughts on all this in the next chapter.


	7. Lambs and Sheep

Stannis had trouble falling asleep. By rights he should have been knocked out by now; two orgasms and a gorgeous, warm girl in his bed. But he was tormented by guilt and a confused muddle of other feelings that he wasn’t sure he could really identify.

He had practically assaulted her. It astounded him that she had wanted to stay after what he’d done. He had nearly fallen apart in the washroom when he’d been cleaning the evidence of his brutishness away. There had been more blood than he would ever have expected, and he _hated_ that while he had been distracted by the _utter bliss_ of being inside of her, she had been in pain. He would never forget the look on her face when he had opened his eyes after finally burying himself to the hilt that first time. (How thick had he been? Honestly, it would never have been that hard to push his way inside an experienced woman. He should have realised she was a virgin when his first thrust had only managed to get the head in.)

She had looked completely _tortured._ And not in the fun ‘oh, this is orgasmic torture’ kind of way.

If only he had stopped then. Reason had told him that she was lying when she said that she had done it before. The decent, righteous part of his brain that usually governed all of his actions had screamed at him to press her for the _truth._ But he had been enslaved by his base instincts, all too ready to accept her words at face value and continue taking what he wanted. Selfish, horrible, _foolish_ man.

_Why hadn’t he made sure they were on the same page before ploughing into her in the first place?_

He wasn’t an imbecile, he _knew_ how important it was. He had just made a series of terribly bad assumptions throughout the night. Firstly - and most ill-fatedly - he had assumed she was experienced. Her flirtatious nature and the adult content of the pictures she had been sending him had fooled him. Secondly, he had assumed that when she asked him to take her to his apartment that she was asking for sex. _Thirdly,_ he had assumed that when she had asked for ‘more’ when they had been kissing and touching on the sofa that she had been asking for sex.

He should have double checked.

Stannis rolled around on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. Sansa had fallen asleep almost an hour ago, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else, soft and warm and _beautiful._ He wanted to bury his face in her hair and breathe deeply of the heavenly scent it carried, but he thought that might wake her, so he didn’t.

Guilt filled his stomach like a large, jagged rock, and it also rested on his chest like an unbearably heavy weight. He had _enjoyed_ it. He had enjoyed how impossibly tight she had been, how wet, and how _delectably_ she had fit around him; squeezing him within an inch of his sanity.

Had the wetness been natural moisture or just blood?

It was becoming impossible to breathe, and he felt stifled by the bedcovers. _He had made her cry._ He decided to get out of bed and go outside to the balcony for a little while. If he had been a smoker he might have lit a cigarette. As it was, he just went outside and stared at the city lights without seeing them. The sharp cold helped.

Sansa had been willing. She had been willing. He had not forced her; only rushed her. That’s what she had said, and he believed that she had been telling the truth. She had to have been telling the truth, because no woman would ever want to go on to be touched and licked by someone she felt had attacked her. Surely that was not a faulty assumption? And then she had… _Gods_.

That blowjob had been _phenomenal._ A fantasy come to life in his own bedroom. She had been so eager, and her mouth had been so hot and perfect… He really should not have accepted it from her, but he hadn’t really been driving with the headlights on at that point. The minute he had decided to put his guilt aside so that he could take care of Sansa, it had been like a much baser part of him had taken the wheel.

He shouldn’t have accepted it, but he had. Perhaps partly because it had been so very _very_ long since anyone had done that for him. He couldn’t actually remember the last time before Sansa, and he was baffled at how he had managed to keep from coming the second she started to really suck him. The sensation had nearly shut his brain down completely.

How had a simple dinner date spiraled into this mess?

Stannis shivered and went back inside, closing the sliding glass door quietly behind him. Sansa hadn’t moved. He got back into bed, making sure not to jostle her.

He had taken Sansa’s virginity. He had taken it nearly the rudest way possible; not even undressing properly and not even taking her to a _bed._ As much as he had wanted to pull the emergency brake and stop everything in its tracks after he found out, he couldn’t let her first time be _that_ and then being told to go home because he felt too guilty to cope. He had been duty bound to make it up to her, and he had tried harder than he had ever tried in his life to please her. Thankfully he had been successful. Twice.

Stannis impatiently squashed the feelings of smug pride that were creeping up on him. Didn’t those feelings know that he was busy feeling guilty and upset?

Where was he supposed to go from here? He was already letting her sleep in his bed, having flirtatious conversations about locking her in his room… and he couldn’t very well just kick her out tomorrow and tell her this had all been a mistake. He didn’t want to do that, anyway. He really _did_ mostly just want to lock her in his room, keep the rest of the world out, and stay hidden away where no one would be able to point out to him how morally dubious it had been to even take her to dinner, much less how morally dubious the rest of it all had been.

She was only barely an adult, for fuck’s sake!

Why did he have to notice her? Why did she have to notice _him?_

According to what she had told him, she had been interested in him since she fifteen! He couldn’t deny that he had noticed her, too. He still occasionally dreamt of the time she had made him put sunblock on her naked back, usually waking up aching and desperate for release. But knowing that she had desired him, _touched herself_ to thoughts of him made everything much… _harder._

Stannis thought about what Davos had said about getting Sansa out of his system and almost snorted loudly enough to wake her. If Davos had any idea what it was like to actually _have_ Sansa he would never have suggested it. Stannis did not feel in any way as if Sansa had been cleared from his ‘system’ after his time with her; if anything, he was more obsessed than ever. Now that he had experienced what it was like to have her - naked and willing - he could not imagine giving the privilege up, even despite how morally unsound it all was. But he couldn’t just start _dating_ her. Her father, Robert, and _everyone_ would probably protest most vehemently if he tried it.

Stannis turned from his back to his side, looking over at Sansa. _What did she want?_

Playful banter about being his pet aside, did she want something more from him, or was this just about sex for her? Due to her inexperience he thought it was unlikely that all she wanted was sex, but he supposed he couldn’t rule it out completely. The mental image of her as his pet resurfaced, and he bit back a groan. Sansa’s teasing about collars and chains had made the dark part of him that he generally tried to ignore sit up and take notice. Honestly, he needed people to stop suggesting these things to him. He was sure that he would never come up with any of it on his own.

It was very late indeed when Stannis had thought about everything so often, and looked at things from so many angles without coming any nearer to knowing what to do, that he had no choice but to let it go and sleep on it. He expected to sleep fitfully, but he ended up sleeping rather like a baby -- no doubt soothed by Sansa’s presence.

The ‘exercise’ and the much later than usual bedtime caused Stannis to sleep in. It was nearly noon when he finally stirred, somehow managing to wake up before Sansa even though she had fallen asleep before he had. It was an unwelcome reminder of the fact that she was a teenager, capable of sleeping the entire day away if left alone to do so.

It was rather wonderful to wake up with a warm girl in his arms, even though it was inspiring his morning wood to get ideas that he wasn’t sure it should really be getting. His body seemed to be under the impression that he should be grinding himself against the lovely body that was so conveniently within reach, enjoying the softness of her skin and possibly taking her up on her offer to give him as many blowjobs as he wanted. (Or had he hallucinated that?)

Stannis gritted his teeth and took a few deep breaths. He should untangle himself from Sansa and go take a shower. He should definitely _not_ molest her in her sleep. Using every scrap of willpower he could find in his barely-awake brain, he carefully found his way out of the loose embrace with Sansa and negotiated with the covers that had taken his feet hostage. He was very pleased with himself when he ended up standing next to the bed without disturbing Sansa’s sleep, observing her as she breathed deeply and evenly, her face completely smooth and untroubled. Standing over her with a raging erection was probably not a good long term plan, however, so he hurriedly headed for that shower.

As soon as the hot water started to massage the tension from his shoulders, he started to massage the tension from other parts of his body. He wasn’t in the mood to deny himself, and it might help clear his mind and rid him of distractions. He pulled lazily on his cock as he lathered himself up with his other hand, grateful once again for his foresight in buying a shower gel that came with a pump dispenser that he could work with one hand. At first he thought of nothing in particular, just enjoying the feeling of soap and hot water on his skin, and the satisfying, firm grip of his fist. Soon enough the memories of the night started to resurface, and he gripped himself harder as he remembered how gorgeous Sansa’s naked body was, how her mouth had felt on his cock, and how it had felt to bury himself in her; how ridiculously _tight_ she’d been.

As his climax neared he lost himself in guilty fantasies of Sansa wearing a pretty, diamond studded collar connected to a very fine golden chain that he held in his hand, obeying his every command with an eager smile, her biggest joy in life to pleasure him, and _only_ him. He imagined how he would pamper and spoil her, and how she would spoil him in return, never tiring of licking his cock like a good little girl…

“Mind if I join you?”

Stannis had been seconds from coming, but Sansa’s sudden interruption caused him to let go of himself in shocked embarrassment, his shower-warmed skin heating up further and burning with shame.

She did not wait for him to answer and was suddenly standing in front of him, naked and rapidly getting soaked under the spray. She had a mischievous smile on her face, and her eyes were glittering with amusement and… arousal? Or was he just seeing what he wanted to see?

She reached for him with her hand and started to stroke his cock slowly, looking him in the eye and smiling a little more widely. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, just loud enough to be heard over the streaming water.

If possible, his face reddened even further.

“Were you thinking about me?” she asked coyly, pressing her breasts against his chest and stroking him a little faster.

“Yes,” he choked out, nodding for good measure. Gods, her hand felt _much_ better than his own; small and soft and unpredictable.

“Was I doing anything, or were you just thinking about me in general?” she interrogated sweetly, and even though he had no intention of telling her anything, he found his mouth had opened and words were coming out.

“I was imagining that you were licking my cock,” his traitorous mouth said, following the damning statement with an even more damning groan. He was so fucking _close._

“You only had to ask,” Sansa said playfully, kissing his lips and then getting on her knees. Stannis put a shower mat on his mental shopping list then and there, as he realised the hard tiles couldn’t be very comfortable.

“Sansa, you don’t have to - oh…” Stannis trailed off, his chivalrous offer to wait until they were in a more comfortable situation dying on his tongue as soon as _her_ tongue came into contact with his cock. He was suddenly feeling too wonderful to be able to spare a thought for Sansa’s knees.

Everything was wet and warm. The water that was massaging his shoulders and streaming down his body, and the mouth that was enveloping the head of his erection, licking and sucking at it eagerly. Her hands was wet from the shower, too, and she was using them both; one hand moving up and down his shaft in time with her mouth, and the other stroking his inner thighs and making its way up. He had already brought himself to the edge of release with his fist and his fantasies, so when she reached his sac to fondle it; it was tight and ready to play its role. Her touch on the sensitive flesh felt sinfully good, and he moaned and tried to hold on to the feeling of being on the brink for as long as he could.

He wanted to grab her head and thrust forward into her mouth as his orgasm hit him, but he had _some_ manners, so he restrained himself, leaning forwards with his upper body instead so that he could rest his palms on the tiles in front of him and support himself a little as a tidal wave of pleasure moved through him. She had let the head of his cock pop out of her mouth when he started to come, but continued to pump with her hand, letting the spurts of his seed land on her parted lips, her cheeks and her chin, before getting rinsed away by the shower. She looked at him the whole time, her skin flushed and her eyes bright, and his knees almost buckled due to the combination of his climax and the intensely erotic visual.

“Did you like that?” she asked flirtatiously, looking up at him as he panted and did his best not to visibly tremble.

He couldn’t answer her with words, so he just moaned and nodded, looking down at her in baffled, appreciative wonder.

“You should always have that look on your face,” Sansa said - sounding very pleased with herself - as she carefully got up from the slick tiles.

Stannis briefly wondered what his face looked like, but decided he probably looked like an idiot and tried to school his features into a more neutral look. For something to do he pumped some more shower gel into his palm and worked it into a lather absently.

“Oh, yes please,” Sansa said with a cheeky smile, raising her hands to collect her hair and get it out of the way. She obviously wanted him wash her. His mouth watered slightly at just the _idea._ Did she know what she was doing to him? Did she realise what a fantasy it was to have her in his shower? _Was this a fantasy?_

She had moved to stand a little out of the way of the spray so that the suds wouldn’t run off her as soon as he managed to get his soapy hands on her, and he reached for her a little hesitantly, almost unable to believe that she was real. But she was real, and touching her was warm and slippery and _fun._ He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something quite as fun. He wasn’t really the kind of man who sought ‘fun’ activities as he was generally more concerned with doing _useful_ things. Productive things.

Sansa giggled and moaned as he covered her skin with foam, paying very close attention to her breasts and her nipples, of course. He knew better than to bring too much soap in between her legs, so he restrained himself from touching her there. After a while his restraint started to have an interesting effect on her. Her moans became more desperate, and she was blushing and looking at him with so much heat in her eyes that he wondered if he might get singed.

“Please…” she finally moaned, pouting at him in that way that made him want to do whatever she wanted, “I need you to touch me,” she begged prettily, her voice sweet and imploring. She also seemed a little embarrassed by her need, judging by her deepening blush, and for some reason her embarrassment _thrilled_ him.

Stannis rinsed his hands and backed Sansa up against the tiles. She let out a little gasp that sounded as if she was surprised by the cold wall against her back, but he kissed her before she had a chance to say anything. He pressed himself firmly against her, sandwiching her between his own body and the cold tiles, enjoying the slide of their wet soapy skin. Kissing her was a singular pleasure, and he enjoyed it now, liking the way she opened up to him completely, allowing his tongue to roam freely and taste her as he wanted. He could not taste much of himself on her tongue, but he would not have minded the taste; it would just have been an erotic reminder of where she had recently had her mouth.

He had to come up for air eventually, and he used the opportunity to move his lips to her ear. “Spread your legs,” he said in a low voice, knowing that he’d need better access if he were to touch her as she had asked. He had to hold back an amused smirk at how quickly she complied. She was moaning as soon as he touched her, and he might have taken it into his head to accuse her of being a little actress if she hadn’t sounded so completely genuine.

He tried to be as gentle as he could, knowing that she might still be sore from last night, but she was begging for more within minutes, and he risked a firmer touch. He really liked the way she was clinging to his back and trying to push herself against his hand as he touched her, the moans getting louder as he stroked her and sucked on her neck.

“Oh, please, inside, I need something inside…” she whimpered, writhing against his hand and scratching at his slippery shoulder blades with her nails.

“Are you sure?” he asked, the blood from last night still fresh in his mind.

“Yes, just… gently, _please..._ ”

Slowly and gently, just as she had asked, he dipped a finger inside of her. She felt tight around his finger, but warm and soft and delightfully wet, her inner muscles clenching around him in a way that put him in mind of full, pouty lips latching onto and sucking on his finger. _Gods, he wanted to stick his cock back in there…_

He imagined what it would be like to just hoist her up and fuck her right against the shower wall as he fingered her, listening to her ecstatic moans and using them to fuel his fantasy. He was getting hard again, twitching further to life with every sound she made and every illicit thought that crossed his fevered mind. It was obscene to be getting another cockstand so soon, and he had no idea what he would do with the thing. He highly doubted it would go away on its own with Sansa anywhere near him.

“More, more, more…” Sansa whimpered breathlessly, sounding very close to her peak. He redoubled his efforts; literally doubling the amount of fingers inside of her, and letting his thumb push up against the area near her hooded little bundle of nerves, knowing that it would help send her over the edge. He repeatedly sank his fingers up to the knuckles, tracing lazy circles with his thumb, and was soon rewarded with a pretty song of: “oh, Stannis, _Stannis!_ ” and other such lovely things that stroked and flattered his ego. She was clutching at his shoulders, holding onto him almost as if she would sink to the floor otherwise, and he decided to press himself more firmly against her as she rode his hand through the rest of her orgasm; pinning her body to the wall. It felt good to trap his erection against her slick skin, and he could not resist rubbing himself against her a little, kissing her deeply as he did.

“We’re going to finish all the hot water in the building,” Sansa said weakly when their kiss had broken and he had retracted his hand.

“I don’t care,” Stannis growled, kissing her again.

“Mmf, we’ll turn into prunes!” Sansa protested with a giggle, ending the kiss before he had even managed to get properly started.

“Fine, I’ll shut the water off.”

Stannis found a towel for Sansa and started to dry himself off with another, trying to resist the urge to touch his cock too much as he did. Sansa was shooting him interested looks, and he didn’t want her to catch him playing with himself _again._ He went through his after-shower routine in a bit of a daze - distracted by the demanding pressure of his erection - almost putting shaving cream in his hair, and hair gel on his face.

Sansa disappeared for a minute and came back with some toiletries from the guest bath. He was ridiculously pleased by the fact that she had chosen to come back and do her own routine near him, instead of simply doing all that moisturising in the guest bathroom. Usually he might have rolled his eyes at the amount of moisturising women seemed to feel the need to do, but it was making Sansa’s skin glisten very attractively, and he liked watching her rub herself all over like that. She noticed him watching and lingered at her breasts with a playful sparkle in her eyes, and he nicked himself shaving because he wasn’t paying any attention to what he was doing.

He had wrapped his towel around his waist, but she seemed content to strut around completely naked as she brushed her hair. He watched her reflection in the mirror as he applied his aftershave, and his breath caught when she smiled at him, put the brush down, and came over to him to press herself against his back. She kissed the back of his neck and wrapped her arms around his torso, stroking his front idly with her fingertips. Her skin slid against his pleasantly, and her breasts felt utterly perfect pressed against his back like they were.

Her hands made their way down to the towel, tugging on it and causing it to fall unceremoniously to the floor. She started to stroke his cock, making a happy little humming noise as if she had just found an unexpected treat.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” she suggested flirtatiously, squeezing him lightly at the same time.

“Mngh,” was his eloquent response. He had meant to say a proper word, but it got lost on the way to his mouth as she started to move her hand up and down in a steady rhythm, her little hand gripping him so wonderfully firmly.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, letting go of him and walking out of the en suite.

Temporarily having forgotten what the concept of dignity meant, Stannis hurried after her, needing her to continue doing what she had been doing with her hand.

She had taken a seat on the rumpled bed, one corner of her mouth curving up and a very bright look in her incredibly blue eyes. Her hair was still damp from the shower, only having been roughly towel dried and brushed, she was free of cosmetics, and a little pink all over. The pinkness was probably due to the hot water and the terry cloth rubbing her dry, though Stannis hoped she might also just be flushed with arousal. The skin cream she had applied was still making her glisten, and the sight was making him want to lie on top of her and rub himself against her; he knew she would feel heavenly soft.

Almost as if he were in a trance, he walked to stand in front of her, realising a little too late that her position on the bed placed her head right at the level of his prominent erection. He didn’t want her to get the wrong (right?) idea, so he hurriedly sat down next to her, touching her face and kissing her hungrily. He thrust his tongue repeatedly into her mouth, most likely betraying his urgent desire to thrust other things inside of her. As if they had a will of their own, his hands sought her breasts, playing with her nipples and fondling her as gently as he could, remembering how she hadn’t liked it when he was too forceful with his hands.

“Mmm, tell me what you want,” Sansa moaned when he started to trail open-mouthed kissed down the side of her neck, lingering at a dark blemish that he supposed he must have left there. He felt a strong urge to make more marks, but restrained himself. Sansa was a beautiful girl; she might not appreciate having her skin covered in love bites. He had never really noticed her acting very vain, but he still thought he ought to be cautious about marking her up -- at least until he knew her feelings on the matter.

“Do you want me on my knees again?” she whispered, reminding him that he owed her an answer.

“I can’t ask you to do that again so soon,” he said a little reluctantly.

“I don’t mind, I like doing it for you… I like how you don’t push,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips, her hand stroking his freshly shaved cheek gently.

Stannis’ stomach clenched up at what she had said, understanding the implications. As far as he knew, Sansa had only had one boyfriend: Joffrey. Stannis made a mental note to talk to Robert about teaching his eldest some manners.

He suggested they just lie down for a little while as he wanted to kiss and touch her some more. Having her in his bed, so gorgeously nude, willing and pliant, was almost enough of a pleasure all on its own. At least his mind thought so, while his cock vehemently disagreed. (It wanted so much more.) His cock was incredibly stupid, however, so he was trying to ignore its increasingly angry demands for attention.

At first they were lying on their sides, their fronts pressed tightly against one another and kissing lazily. Due to their position they both only had one hand free, and Sansa was using her free hand to rake her nails from his scalp, down his neck, between his shoulder blades and all the way to the small of his back. It was _heavenly._ Stannis could not seem to get his free hand to anything except fondle and knead the supple curve of her arse. His grip there allowed him to press her more firmly against his cock, but as Sansa happened to have rather a phenomenal, tight little backside on her, he didn’t really need the incentive. He had spent a _lot_ of time staring longingly at it over the summer, after all. Sansa seemed to really like his groping; she moaned loudly into his mouth whenever he squeezed a little harder, and soon she was positively _writhing_ against him.

Eventually she made a desperate, frustrated sound and pushed him until he was lying on his back. She straddled him immediately, using his painfully hard cock to give herself some friction, letting him feel how wet she was for him. It was torture to let her slide her folds against him, knowing _exactly_ how good it would feel to push inside of her, but unable to do any such thing. She was probably still much too sore from his abrupt entry last night for him even to _consider_ it.

“This feels so good…” Sansa moaned, leaning close to him so that her breasts were practically right in his face. He used the opportunity to lick one of her nipples, and she actually _squealed._ He kept himself entertained and distracted by trying to get her to make that noise again for a while, but apparently he was driving her a little insane, as she suddenly reached for his cock, held it steady and started to impale herself on it.

“Sansa!” he cried out, not knowing whether he was scolding her or egging her on. He grabbed her waist and tried to still her, but she was pushing herself down on him very insistently, and despite the tight fit she took all of him before he could find the words to ask her if she really wanted to do this.

She didn’t move. Just sat there, full of his cock and breathing deeply and loudly. He was breathing heavily too, almost seeing stars due to the feel of her tight, wet grip.

“Why did you do that?” he asked her, his voice strained. He was using all of his willpower to keep from bucking up. She felt amazing; her soft heat kissing every inch of his cock in the most wonderful way, but the lack of movement was _killing_ him.

“I just… had to,” she explained, sounding strained, too.

He knew what she meant. The physical drive for the _connection_ could be overpowering. It was how he had felt on the sofa last night.

Deep breaths. “Is it hurting you?”

“A little,” she admitted in a small voice.

“You can just get off, we don’t have to do this now,” he said calmly, even though every cell in his body was currently screaming at him to grab hold of her hips and _thrust_.

“It’s just… this angle makes it worse, I think. If you were on top it might be okay,” Sansa said hesitantly, biting her lower lip and looking down at him with big blue eyes. “Could we try it? If it still hurts I’ll tell you.”

It was completely clear to him that this was one of those moments that people talked about where they were being ‘tested’. He was relatively sure that to pass the test he was supposed to say no. But his cock was making a very powerful argument for why he should say yes, so he found himself flipping them over, hovering over Sansa and supporting himself with his knees and his elbows. Sansa lifted her knees to cradle him, lining their bodies up for the most comfortable angle for her.

“Better?” he asked hoarsely, desperately hoping for a yes.

“Yes, I think I’ll be okay if you go slowly,” Sansa said quietly, looking up at him and licking her lips. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her when he saw her pink little tongue peeking out like that, and he started to move his hips at the slowest pace in history. Moving was a slight improvement on staying still, but it was also a tantalising hint of the pleasure he could find if he only went faster. Clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut in concentration, he kept at it; listening closely to Sansa for any changes in her breathing or other noises that might indicate that she was experiencing discomfort. So far she seemed to be fine, and her little sighs and soft moans were encouraging.

“Oh, it’s really so _good,_ ” Sansa breathed, satisfaction and wonder in her tone, “but it’s the oddest sensation - _oh!_ \- I feel so stretched and full and - mm - _complete…_ ”

Stannis groaned at her words, not knowing if his body was large enough to contain his ego at this point. He opened his eyes to look at her, but she had her eyes closed. There was a slight crease between her brows, but she did not look pained like she had looked on the sofa last night. There was even a hint of a smile on her lips. She looked almost too beautiful to be real underneath him like this, and for a second Stannis almost wondered if he was having a particularly vivid dream. Could he really be inside her? Feeling so welcomed by her warmth and causing that little smile?

The increasingly furious demands of his cock to go faster convinced him this was all too real. In a dream he would not be choking on the conflict between his body’s desires and his need to consider Sansa’s wellbeing.

He was taken completely by surprise when he came after an eternity of his slow moments. He felt as if an unseen assailant had suddenly hit the back of his head with pleasure instead of pain, and it felt searing hot as it traveled up and down his spine. He heard the undignified grunts he was making as if from a vast distance, feeling completely wrapped up in the sensations that were washing over him, his entire consciousness focused on the orgasm that was wrenching his seed from his body, shooting spurt after spurt of it deep into Sansa’s receptive, tight heat.

Gods, he was done for. Absolutely done for. He’d never be able to give this up. It was too good.

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment while he caught his breath and convinced his eyes to stop rolling back and trying to look at his brain. He felt Sansa wrap her legs around him and hold him deep inside as she pulsated around his spent cock. She rubbed herself against him slightly, obviously seeking some friction. He tried to move his hips to give her a little more, but he was barely in control of himself. He considered reaching between their bodies to pleasure her with his hand, but he was fairly sure he would collapse on top of her if he tried it. In the end he kept still as she moved against him, mewling and moaning in rather an erotic way. 

He was even more surprised than when his own orgasm had hit him when she started to shudder and and gasp, her inner muscles clenching around his not-yet softened cock, clearly having reached her own peak. Stannis might not have had very many partners in bed, but he did _read_ and he knew it was uncommon for women to be able to reach orgasms through penetrative sex. Amazed, and rather thrilled for her, he closed the short distance between their lips and kissed her deeply. She licked enjoyably at his tongue, and if his shoulders hadn’t been close to quitting on him, he would have liked to stay and kiss her for much longer. As it was, he had to roll off and rest his trembling muscles.

“Mmm, that was so amazing,” Sansa purred, more than a touch of the cat who got the cream in her tone.

Stannis didn’t know what to say, so he just blew out a breath that he hoped sounded like he agreed with her.

“But I feel all empty, now…” she pouted, playful again and stroking his chest. 

He couldn’t believe her. Was she seriously implying that she already missed having him inside of her? As if she hadn’t turned all of his internal organs into warm mush and replaced his previous, decently sized ego with a new one that he wasn’t quite sure would fit in their solar system?

He groaned and threw his forearm across his eyes. “What are you _doing_ to me?”

“Nice things, I hope,” she chirped brightly, a giggle just under the surface of her words that told him she knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

The vague thought of just turning her over and spanking her for being an insufferable tease crossed his mind, and his still-not-quite-soft cock twitched eagerly in response to the idea. 

Shit. He couldn’t really blame anyone for planting _that_ thought in his head.

Sansa’s stomach growled. “I guess I’m hungry,” she said with a laugh, and Stannis was relieved for a chance to think about something mundane and avoid thinking about his apparent perversions.

“I’ll go and see what I have in the kitchen,” he said, dragging himself to the edge of the bed with more difficulty than he’d ever admit.

“Let’s just order pizza,” Sansa suggested, grabbing him before he managed to stand up and wrapping herself around him to prevent his escape. It was a most grievous set of circumstances and he was really quite devastated by it all. Truly.

***

Stannis felt very strange when he walked into the office on Monday morning. It was a mixture of rejuvenation, utter _exhaustion,_ smug pride, and horrible guilt. He had somehow ended up having rather a lot of sex with Sansa Stark over the weekend. More sex in two days than he had probably had in the last two _years_ of his marriage.

He had taken Sansa’s virginity on a sofa, without really preparing her properly first. Somehow that had led to showering with her the following morning, receiving more blowjobs than he had ever received in his life, some very careful sex, and pizza in bed. After they had finally managed to drag themselves out of bed to go to the store for some moon tea, they had ended up in the TV room, binging on some completely ridiculous show about vampires that Sansa insisted he needed to watch with her. Apparently it was more than bad special effects, it was bad special effects and feminism. He had ended up getting completely sucked in, much to his surprise, and had actually watched a few episodes on his own on Sunday night when he really should have been catching up on his work emails. Could Sansa’s youth somehow have rubbed off on him? Or was he just generally sinking into madness?

They hadn’t really talked about what their ‘relationship’ was, or what it should be, but when Sansa had left on Sunday morning, she had promised to come by after he was finished at the office on Monday. He hadn’t been able to say no, so Stannis supposed they were now… seeing each other? Perhaps they’d discuss it later today. Then again, perhaps not.

Stannis wasn’t quite as early as he usually was. He had ended up going to sleep quite a bit after midnight as he had simply had to watch one more episode, and then one more after that… Honestly, where had his discipline gone? He was still the first to arrive, but it wasn’t long until Davos showed up. Usually Stannis beat Davos to the office by at least half an hour, today it was more like five minutes.

“So, how did the date go? You never called,” Davos dove right in, probably wanting to get the gossip out of the way before any other employees showed up.

Stannis felt himself blanch and then redden as he tried to think of what he should say. He hadn’t really decided what to tell Davos.

“From the look on your face I’d say _something_ happened…” Davos said, trailing off in a way that Stannis knew was an invitation for him to speak.

“Er, it went… the date, I mean, it went well, I think,” Stannis mumbled, wondering if he should tell Davos everything, or just parts of it.

“Did you manage to get her to you apartment, then?” Davos said with an easy grin.

“Yes,” Stannis replied hoarsely, feeling his heartbeat quicken at the very thought of how Sansa had ended up at his place.

“Got her out of your system?”

Stannis looked at Davos with a small frown, feeling a little lost. “No…”

“You didn’t… do anything?” Davos asked, looking surprised.

Stannis gave Davos a helpless look. It really went against everything he had ever been taught to discuss these things with Davos - kissing and telling was not a gentlemanly thing to do - but he desperately needed an outside perspective.

“You had sex, didn’t you?” Davos said, raising an eyebrow and looking vaguely amused.

Stannis buried his face in his hands in answer. “She was a virgin,” he mumbled quietly.

“ _Oh,_ ” Davos sounded a little shocked. Stannis didn’t dare look at him. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if his friend judged him unworthy.

“And - er - was she okay with… everything?” Davos asked tentatively.

“She said she was. But she stayed with me until Sunday morning, and I think she was a bit sad about it for a while. We ended up watching an old TV show to make her feel better,” Stannis mumbled, not really sure why he was telling Davos all of it.

“A lot of girls are a little sad when they lose their virginity, though. Marya cried for an hour,” Davos said, obviously trying to make Stannis feel better.

“She didn’t tell me it was her first time,” Stannis whispered, unable to stop confessing his sins.

“No!” Davos seemed genuinely shocked and appalled.

“I behaved so badly, I… I can’t even think about it,” Stannis said covering his eyes with his hand.

“You didn’t know,” Davos said bracingly.

“I should have asked,” Stannis sighed. If he could go back in time he would go and slap himself silly before that date and yell at his past self to not get so sidetracked by his cock that he forgot to be a decent human being.

“But she said she was okay?” Davos said hesitantly.

“She certainly seemed okay in the shower on Saturday, and in bed, and in the TV room…” Stannis said with a groan, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

Davos coughed as if he had accidentally choked on the air in his lungs. “So… probably not scarred for life?” Davos said when he had finally recovered.

“She’s coming over again today.”

“Really? I mean, that’s great!”

“Is it? Wasn’t I supposed to ‘get her out of my system’?”

“Well, if you like her and she likes you, perhaps you should continue seeing each other for a while?”

Stannis argued the point back and forth with Davos for several minutes, until the other employees started to arrive, disturbing the peace and quiet. They were inside Stannis’ office, so no one would really be able to overhear their conversation, but they needed to get to work.

Davos ended up pointing out that it wasn’t as if Stannis could make things much worse by continuing the ‘affair’. “Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb,” Davos said with a shrug.

"Hanged," Stannis muttered and shook his head, though he was actually rather thrilled that Davos had ‘given him permission’ to keep up his insane dalliance with Sansa. 

“This is going to end badly,” he sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's complete crack that Sansa insisted they watch Buffy, but I couldn't help myself. I love the idea of Stannis getting sucked into that show. Again, I remind you of the fact that this fic is completely self-indulgent.


	8. Black Lace and White Socks Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a longer chapter, but I decided to split it in two for Reasons.

Sansa wouldn’t call her relationship with Stannis an actual _secret_ as much as she would call it… not widely reported. They occasionally went to dinner together, out in public where anyone might see them. They didn’t really try to hide. They just didn’t tell anyone they were sort of seeing each other, and they tended to give the really popular restaurants a miss when they went out.

The only person who knew about their _involvement_ was Davos, because apparently Stannis could not keep his mouth shut when it came to his best friend. Sansa didn’t really mind, though. Davos was nice enough, and it had been fun to meet him and his wife Marya for dinner a couple of weeks ago.

It was inevitable that they would be discovered since they weren’t trying to sneak around, but Sansa was still a little annoyed when it finally happened. It meant she’d be forced to have rather an awkward conversation with her parents.

A month and fortnight had gone by since their first date, and Sansa was determined to tease Stannis the rest of the way out of his shell. She had seen hints and clues of a hidden, slightly kinky side to his bedroom personality that she was very eager to explore, and she had made a tentative plan to get him to admit it to her. (And possibly to himself, if he hadn’t already.)

Not that the sex wasn’t perfectly wonderful the way it was, of course. As soon he had ‘broken her in’ properly it started to get better each time they did it. They had spent five or six Saturdays in a row pretty much isolated from the outside world, just learning to enjoy each other in every way that appealed to them. Sansa hadn’t realised it was possible to wring quite so many orgasms from the human body, but she was _so_ glad that she had learnt that it was.

All the sex was having a visible effect on both of them, and Sansa often wondered why no one commented on her confident new walk, or the fact that Stannis didn’t carry nearly as much tension in his shoulders anymore. But perhaps those things were too subtle to be noticed?

Sansa had taken to visiting Stannis several times a week, often picking up some ingredients for dinner and cooking for him, since he tended not to eat much of anything otherwise. At most he would mix himself one of those awful protein shake things if left on his own. He said that he had a big lunch at work, but Sansa remembered how he tended to eat at work, and how he didn’t always give himself time for it. It really was no wonder that he barely had any fat on him, but Sansa did wonder where he got the energy to exercise and keep his muscles from atrophying.

Anyway, Sansa benefited from the arrangement, too. She much preferred her own cooking to the campus cafeteria food, and Stannis had a _wonderful_ kitchen. When she had brought groceries and cooked a couple of times, Stannis had quietly given her a credit card and a key to his apartment. That way she would be able to get inside with the food if he was running late. She had objected at first, but he said it was only fair that he pay for the groceries if she was doing the shopping and the cooking. She couldn’t really argue with that, so she had accepted the piece of plastic with a blush.

It was just for the food, she promised herself. She wouldn’t buy herself clothes, or jewellery, or anything like that. She wasn’t his ‘kept woman’. And the key didn’t mean anything either. It just meant she wouldn’t get locked out.

When she went to the discreet upscale boutique that she had researched online it was the first time she used Stannis’ credit card for anything other than food. But she would never be able to afford anything from the store on her own, and it was going to be for their joint use. It wasn’t like she was buying anything just for herself, she rationalised.

She hoped he’d like the surprise.

She had Friday off school, so she decided to surprise him on Thursday evening. It was incredibly hard to keep from blurting the whole thing out as she cooked and ate dinner with him as she so often did. He was up in arms about an important meeting and a business dinner he had to attend the following day, but she barely listened out of nervous excitement.

Finally they had finished dinner and cleared up, and Sansa’s heart was about to explode in her chest.

“Stannis?” she said, getting his attention.

“Mm?” he mumbled, in the middle of pouring himself a glass of water. He had a strange habit of not drinking much with food, preferring to have a glass of water before or after dinner.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said quickly, her voice a bit more high-pitched than it usually was.

“Oh?” He looked intrigued, and a little uncertain.

“Yes, I thought I’d just get it ready… Could you give me ten minutes and then come to bed?” she asked, biting her lip and smiling slightly. She was trying to come off as mysterious and flirtatious, but not _too_ secretive. She didn’t want him to suspect she had anything more than fancy lingerie in store for him.

Stannis’ eyes darkened immediately when she mentioned bed, and he nodded and swallowed noticeably. It was wonderfully flattering how he was still so eager for her, even after several weeks of having her every which way. She blushed at the thought and hurried to shut herself in the bedroom to prepare.

The woman at the boutique had listened to Sansa’s hesitant explanation of what she thought Stannis might want, and after a few words she had smiled widely and nodded to herself.

“Oh, you want some vanilla bondage stuff. Come on, I’ll show you,” she had said, leading Sansa to a section of the store with a selection of pretty collars, cuffs and delicate chains; nothing that would really ever be very hard to escape from by the looks of things. Sansa thought most of the items on display looked more like fancy combinations of lingerie and jewellery than bondage gear. A perception that was reinforced when she glanced at the section of the store with the more hardcore - tiny bit frightening - BDSM equipment.

“This is one of our most popular items, and it goes really well with that set of lingerie over there,” the shop assistant - Myranda according to her nametag - told her, pointing to a black lacy collar that had three delicate golden chains connected to it. From the picture on the package it looked like two of the chains were also connected to matching black lace cuffs for the wrists, while the third chain could be held in someone’s hand, or fastened to an inanimate object. The lingerie she had indicated was a very pretty black lacy set that _would_ go very well with the collar and the cuffs.

It was a lot of black, though. Sansa didn’t know if she were really the kind of girl who could pull that off. Myranda seemed to sense her hesitation.

“We also have some lovely silk ties and blindfolds, but based on what you told me, your guy would go crazy for this set. And you’d look lovely in black with your skin and your hair,” Myranda said in a flattering tone of voice, a small smirk on her lips.

Sansa blushed a little at hearing Stannis referred to as ‘her guy’, but Myranda must have thought it was because of what she’d said about Sansa’s complexion.

“Try it on if you don’t believe me, we have changing rooms.”

Sansa had ended up buying the lingerie and the delicate lace collar with the pretty chains and the cuffs. She put everything on now, glad that she had asked Stannis to wait ten minutes because the suspenders for the stockings and the fastenings of the bustier were incredibly fiddly. The collar and the cuffs were easy, but it still took her a while to decide what to do with the third chain. Should she fasten it to the headboard of the bed? Hold it out to Stannis when he came in? Should she lie down, or sit up, or stand on the floor?

In the end she decided to kneel on the bed and leave the free chain hanging loose. She knelt with her thighs slightly apart, not sitting down on her heels. It was almost as if she were standing, really, except her knees were bent and resting on the bed. The chains that connected her wrist cuffs to her collar were long enough to let her hands rest comfortably at her sides, so she let them do just that after making sure her hair was suitably tousled and not covering her chest from view. The bustier was doing wonders for her cleavage, and she wanted to make sure Stannis saw.

Precisely ten minutes had passed when Stannis knocked on the door. “May I come in?” he asked, as if it weren’t _his_ bedroom door he was knocking on.

“Yes,” she said simply, too breathless with excitement to say anything else. Her heart pounded as she anticipated what his reaction would be, and she felt her skin warm up, probably turning pink.

The door swung open, and Stannis took a step inside. At first it was as if he just saw the lingerie. His eyes went straight to the stockings, his pupils blowing out and his lips parting in surprise. He seemed to be having problems tearing his eyes away from the bare skin that was exposed above the stockings and below her panties; her pale thighs on display. Sansa decided to gently bring his attention to the chains by moving her hands, the tiny movement causing the chains to make a metallic noise.

Stannis’ eyes snapped to the source of the noise, then to the cuffs, then to the collar, and then - eyes wide, mouth all the way open in shock - to her face.

“W-what?” he stammered, almost choking on the word.

“I thought you might like a pet for the night…” she said flirtatiously, fluttering her eyelashes and turning one corner of her mouth up slightly.

“ _Oh, Gods,_ ” he said weakly, staring at her but standing quite still.

She picked up the free chain and held it out, letting it dangle temptingly. Stannis watched her every move and gazed hungrily at the chain she offered him, obviously intensely aroused by the idea of taking it. His trousers were already bulging, and her smile widened at the sight.

“Come on, it will be fun,” she said encouragingly, reminding him that this was just a game, and that it was _okay._ He tended to be nervous when it came to letting loose in the bedroom, needing to be coaxed a little. She nearly always had to tell him many times that she liked it, and that she thought it was sexy, and yes, he was allowed to do that. And up until now they had only got as far as adventurous sex positions.

It was worth coaxing him into it, though. When she managed to convince him, it was as if he went to a whole other place, mentally, and it nearly always resulted in many, _many_ orgasms.

Stannis walked towards her a bit hesitantly, but his eyes were full of heat.

“Have you any idea what you look like right now?” he asked hoarsely, his voice in that low octave that never failed to make her wet.

She bit her lip and shook her head, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes and trying not to blush much more than she already was.

“You look _sinful_ ,” he whispered in her ear, his voice causing the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms to stand up, a thrilling sort of sensation running down her spine. She was so distracted by his closeness and his whispered words, that she didn’t realise he’d accepted the chain from her until he tugged on it - gently - as if to test it. The slight pull on her collar encouraged her to lean forward, and her lips ended up landing on his in a passionate kiss.

She was embarrassed at how much the little tug turned her on, and embarrassed at how badly she wanted him to do some more of it. Thankfully he would be unlikely to notice her crimson cheeks while he was busy kissing her. She did everything she could to prolong the kiss, not wanting him to see the state she was in, but somehow he seemed to _know._ He broke away and looked at her with that heated look she craved, but there was calculation in his gaze, too.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked curiously, tugging on the chain again to make sure she knew what ‘this’ was. It caused a renewed flood of heat, keeping her cheeks aflame and causing still more moisture to collect between her thighs. She nodded a little shyly and the heat in his gaze turned into a veritable inferno. It was as if he had only been waiting to find out whether she was genuinely into the game before letting himself enjoy it, but now that he could see with his own two eyes that she was practically melting into a puddle at his feet, he was allowing his own excitement to take hold.

“You want to be my little pet?” he whispered huskily, tugging on her chain again and making her whimper needily. She needed his cock right _now._

“Yes, please…” she managed, when he didn’t do anything except look at her expectantly.

“Are you sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, just… tell me what to do,” she implored breathlessly, desperately hoping that he would tell her to spread her legs for him. The ache between her thighs was becoming completely unbearable, tendrils of throbbing _need_ shooting all the way up to her abdomen and making her feel half crazy.

Stannis had closed his eyes when she asked him to tell her what to do, almost as if he couldn’t really handle the input from his senses.

“I think you should undress me,” he said after an eternity, opening his eyes and looking at her with the sort of unrestrained lust that she usually only saw when he was on the verge of coming.

Sansa did not wait to be told twice, she hurriedly started to undo his tie, pulling impatiently at the flawless knot.

“Easy, take your time,” Stannis admonished gently, but there was absolute authority in his tone, and she found herself obeying even before she registered the words properly. Her movements became careful and methodical, taking care to treat each article of clothing respectfully, folding or hanging everything properly. The time it took seemed to stretch on forever, and Sansa was burning up with her need the entire time. But that was all part of the game, and she liked the heightened sense of anticipation. She knew that when he finally did give her what she wanted it would feel _amazing._

He stopped her before she took his fitted boxer briefs off, and did not let her touch the erection that was straining the cotton fabric to it’s fullest extent.

“Your turn,” he ordered softly, seating himself on the bed and tugging on the chain until she stood right in front of him, their knees almost touching. “The bustier,” he added.

It was difficult, but she managed to undo the fiddly clasps at the back, pulling at them just as methodically as she had unbuttoned Stannis’ shirt. The bustier fell away to reveal her breasts, leaving her in the collar, some lacy panties that were rapidly becoming soaked through, and a matching garter belt that held her stockings up.

Stannis did not seem to feel the same urgent need that she did, because he was taking his sweet time, just looking at her appreciatively and making her feel that every sweep of his eyes over her figure was a soft, lingering touch. Her nipples stiffened under his gaze, and it was definitely not because she was cold.

Sansa did not really mind that Stannis wasn’t much for putting his appreciation of her beauty into words. He didn’t need to when he tended to look at her like that whenever she undressed in front of him. It was incredibly flattering to see how his eyes glazed over every time he saw her breasts, and seeing that look now made her want him impossibly even more. A tiny whimper of need escaped her, and he seemed to come back to himself. He raised his eyes to hers, and his lips quirked into an approximation of a smirk.

“Impatient, pet?” he asked her lazily.

Sansa squeezed her thighs together and took a deep, shuddering breath. How was he being so calm? She could see that he was aroused, she _knew_ that he wanted her… what was he _doing?_

“Yes,” she moaned, when he again showed no sign of doing anything until she answered.

Stannis moved up to half sit, half lie at the head of the bed, his back supported by the pillows. He tugged gently on her chain to make her follow, but she would eagerly have done so without his prompting. He guided her into kneeling beside him, facing him and resting back on her heels.

“Did you never hear that patience is a virtue?” he asked her, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Stannis,” she whined, pouting at him. He was really being a pain.

“Tell me what you want, and be specific,” he said, tugging on her chain and making her lean forward, bringing her breasts within his reach. He ran a finger along the curved undersides, passing her nipples by and making her shiver.

She blushed at the idea of putting what she wanted into words. He _knew_ what she wanted. He always knew. She had never had to _ask_ before. She always just said ‘please’, and ‘take me’ and things like that, and then he did. Maybe that would be enough? She could try it.

“Please, Stannis, I want you to take me,” she said, feeling herself blush.

He closed his eyes again for a brief moment, pursing his lips as he did. When he opened them again he couldn’t seem to get the eyelids all the way up and he looked at her through hooded eyes in a way that made her heart stop for a second.

“I said to be specific,” he reproved, his low gravelly voice still _doing things_ to her.

He wanted her to be explicit! She wasn’t sure if she could do it, it just seemed so crass to go about using words like cock and fucking and, and… oh, it was just so embarrassing! Inexplicably the thought of it was just making her wetter, even as it made her face burn.

Sansa took another deep breath, made herself meet his smouldering gaze, and parted her lips to speak.

“I want you to - to fuck me,” she stammered, heart hammering wildly and her breathing hitching.

“That’s still not very specific,” Stannis said critically, obviously noticing her discomfort at having to put her needs into words. But he probably noticed how it was making her squirm with something other than discomfort, too.

“I need your cock inside of me,” she whimpered, unable to believe how uncomfortably wet her panties were. She had never felt so highly strung before, so pathetically eager for the perfect feeling of his cock stretching her open and filling her up.

“I suppose that will have to do,” he sighed, “and you can have what you want,” he added magnanimously.

Sansa felt an intense wave of relief pass through her, but was almost immediately disappointed when Stannis tugged on her chain and brought her head to his lap. She almost wanted to whine at him that she hadn’t meant inside her mouth, but she knew that he would just say that it had been her own fault for not making herself clear - he _had_ told her to be specific - so she swallowed her protests and continued to make do with squirming around for a touch of friction that would not come without something firm for her to rub against.

She dutifully pulled his underwear out of the way, releasing the cock she so desperately needed between her legs, and started to repeatedly and unhurriedly lick it from the base to the head. She had discovered through a lot of experimenting that he preferred to be teased a little before she started to suck in earnest, and that he _really_ liked when she licked at him like she was savouring a treat; especially if she looked at him while she did it. She looked up at him now to see if her were watching, and as soon as she directed her gaze at him his cock jumped, leaving her lips for a second before bumping back against her face. She made to reach for him with her hand to make sure he didn’t escape like that again, but Stannis stopped her.

“Just your mouth,” he said, sounding a little strained and breathless.

She blinked up at him and continued to blush furiously, not really comprehending him at first, and then continuing to blink at him because she was just baffled by his request. He always liked what she did with her hands… why didn’t he want her to use them? Just to make it more difficult for her? That didn’t seem very like him.

“I don’t want this to be over too soon,” he explained in a wry tone of voice.

Oh… so her hands made it a little _too_ good. Now she understood.

She got back to work licking him, and when she thought it had been long enough, she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth, doing her best not to graze him with her teeth even though she was having trouble keeping him steady without the use of her hands. She got the hang of it after a few awkward moments, and soon she was bobbing her head carefully up and down, taking him in as far as he would go without gagging her again and again. 

It was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate on what she was doing, however, as her physical _need_ was starting to demand attention with increasing desperation. The fact that he was deliberately denying her while making her pleasure him, was somehow just making her ache for him even more powerfully.

“Had enough?” he asked when she had started to slow down and falter, feeling distracted and a little tired. She met his eyes and looked down briefly to signal ‘yes’.

He tugged on her chain again, pulling her head up and away from his cock.

“Did you like that?” he asked, looking at her heatedly and speaking in a tone of voice she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him use before. There was something a little dark - though not at all malevolent - in it. It was more like the darkness she sometimes felt when she laughed at some harmless misfortune that had befallen someone. Like when Arya had run off with Sansa’s new scarf at school one morning, but immediately tripped and flown head first into a snow drift. She hadn’t been hurt - only a little embarrassed - but it had been an amusing bit of justice.

“I always like your cock,” she said, trying to sound brazen and flirtatious, but ending up sounding rather meek.

“Why don’t you lie down,” he suggested heatedly, obviously liking her answer.

Sansa hurried to comply, spreading her thighs before he even asked, looking at him imploringly.

He huffed out a short amused breath and shook his head slightly. “So eager?”

“Stannis, please,” she begged, using her sweetest tone of voice and saying his name as if she were completely breathless with desire for him -- which she was, really.

“Needy little pet, aren’t you?” he said, his breathing a lot louder than it had been a moment ago. He was just as affected as she was, and knowing it pleased her to no end. She gasped when he suddenly reached between her spread thighs with his hand, touching her through her sodden panties in a way that made her want to arch her back and press herself firmly against him for _more._ She had been waiting for some relief for _much_ too long.

“Gods…” he breathed, sounding _completely_ aroused, “you’ve soaked your pretty lingerie,” he continued in a more controlled, reproving tone of voice.

“Yes, you should make me take it off,” she suggested, half moaning the words.

Stannis raised an eyebrow at that, and Sansa realised that he didn’t like it when she told him what he should make her do.

“... or just whatever you want me to do, of course,” she hurried to add, trying to make up for her mistake.

“Turn around and lie on your stomach,” he said in response, his gravelly rasp making her want to do whatever he said even if they hadn’t been playing a game.

Once she had complied, Stannis ran his hand from her neck down her spine, passing over her garter belt and coming to a stop at the very top of her lacy panties. They were a bikini cut, so her rear wasn’t on full display, but they didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination. His touch made her shiver and want for more.

“You know I thought about doing this at the beach when you asked me to put sunblock on your back,” he said conversationally, stroking her lace-covered backside idly.

“Doing what?” she asked curiously.

“This,” he said and pulled her underwear up into a sort of wedgie. It didn’t hurt - the added pressure from the crotch panel being pulled tight felt rather wonderful, in fact, but it was a bit embarrassing. “And this,” he added, smacking her freshly bared cheeks lightly with his big hand.

She was so surprised that she let out a small “oh!” and clenched up for a second. Another flood of heat pooled at her centre, an impossible amount of moisture coating the fabric of the panties that were now digging into her and giving her a tiny bit of relief.

“You were being an insufferable little cocktease, weren’t you?” he asked her, sounding amused, “practically begging for a spanking.” He gave her another light smack, and she gasped again. This time the gasp turned into a moan, and she arched her back and tried to lift her bottom a little to press it into his hand.

“Would you have liked that? If I had done this to you then? Right there at the beach in front of everyone?” he asked her, punctuating each question with another smack. She squirmed and pressed herself up against his hand, but all she was succeeding in doing was making herself genuinely, almost-at-the-point-of-crying _desperate_ for his cock.

“I don’t know,” she whimpered pathetically, “I would have been embarrassed!” She was imagining it, and was rather shamefully aroused by the idea.

“I believe you would have been,” he agreed huskily, “and if I had spanked you then, would you have soaked your lovely bikini for me? The way you’re getting your nice lingerie all wet for me now?”

“Probably,” she gasped out, her face burning red and her voice almost breaking, “I was wet just from your hands rubbing the sunblock in,” she added, knowing it would drive him crazy to know that.

“Is that so?” he growled heatedly, “you are a very naughty girl, then.” He gave her a series of quick light smacks, aiming them low. The reverberations from the light spanking shot straight to her throbbing core, making her whimper and squirm.

He continued to aim his smacks low, although occasionally he would move up to tap her round cheeks, the sound of skin smacking against skin highly erotic to her ears. Sansa kept squirming helplessly, more turned on than she had ever been in her life, and going absolutely crazy from the lack of his cock filling her.

“Do you admit that you were a naughty cocktease, and I would have been right to spank you?” his smacks were coming faster and faster, though they were still light enough so that they didn’t smart.

“Yes, I was, I’m sorry!” she managed, almost sobbing with need. “You would have been right to spank me! I wish you would have!” she added, hoping her words would be the push he needed to finally put his cock in her.

“That’s right,” he said, stroking her bottom softly and sounding rather pleased with himself.

“Stannis, _please!_ ” she begged after a few moments when he made no move to take her, “please fuck me now, please, please!”

“As you wish,” Stannis rasped, grasping her hips and pulling them swiftly upwards, forcing her to scramble to her knees underneath her for support. He pulled her panties down as far as they would go until the suspenders from her garter belt got in the way, and entered her in one swift stroke. She was so swollen from arousal, and so completely wet, that it felt like the best, most amazingly mind-blowing thing she had ever experienced. The stretch, the friction, the wonderful _fullness..._ It was all too perfect for words, so she just sobbed with pathetically grateful pleasure. She could hear him groaning in pleasure, too, and hoped he’d be able to last long enough to fuck her properly after all of that foreplay.

She needn’t have worried.

He started off slowly, but quickened the pace soon enough, ploughing into her ruthlessly, skin smacking against skin and fingers digging into her hips; the chain he had been holding lying forgotten somewhere. She had known better than to try to support herself on her hands, even though it was completely undignified to be posed the way she was, with her arse in the air, her panties stretched between her thighs, and her arms pillowing her face.

Her orgasm was building so fast that it was making her head spin, a dizzy feeling of ecstasy washing through her. She was gasping out an “ah!” every time he filled her, the sound becoming more loud and high-pitched as she neared her release, until suddenly she was just screaming for him, completely unable to control the volume of her voice as she started to clench up with her orgasm. It was a hugely powerful climax, more powerful than any he had given her before, and she knew in that moment that they would definitely be playing this game again. Her abdominal muscles seemed to be clenching up uncontrollably even as her inner muscles clamped down on Stannis’ cock, and she lost all feeling in her trembling thighs as she convulsed with pleasure. A heat that originated deep within was spreading from her centre to every last cell in her body, and she never wanted it to stop.

She could vaguely hear Stannis grunting with the effort of pounding himself into her, his voice becoming more of a drawn out groan when his peak approached. She thought the sounds he made were incredibly sexy, but she was unable to really respond to them as she was floating around on the high from her wonderful release, feeling silly and warm all the way from her fuzzy head down to her curled up toes.

He didn’t pull out right away after he finished, choosing instead to start moving in and out of her slowly again while his cock was still hard enough to do so. It was enough to wrench another, smaller orgasm from her as she was so hypersensitive, but she was too tired to do much more that moan quietly as she came. Only then did he finally pull away, collapsing next to her while she let her trembling body fall to the other side.

They didn’t say anything for a while, both too spent to think coherent thoughts, much less put them into words, but eventually Sansa had to get up and deal with the mess that was starting to seep out of her. She stumbled to the en suite on unsteady legs, their mingled fluids running down her thighs, and heard Stannis huff out one of his amused breaths as she had to steady herself using the available furniture on the way. She shot him a halfhearted glare, but her lips betrayed her by smiling slightly as she did.

When they had both taken the time to clean up a little, they ended up back in bed, naked and comfortably wrapped around each other.

“Did you like your surprise?” Sansa asked at length, stroking Stannis’ neck softly.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and tightened his hold on her briefly. “I suspect you know the answer to that,” he murmured.

“Yes, but I still want to hear what you thought,” Sansa said with a pleased little sigh.

“It was... very diverting,” he said, sounding embarrassed.

“You make it sound like an afternoon at the beach,” she giggled, unable to control herself.

“I think we’ve established that afternoons at the beach have the potential to be very _diverting,_ ” Stannis said airily, referencing their earlier conversation about things that had been going on under the surface on one particular trip to the beach.

“Hm, yes…” Sansa admitted, her tone still a bit amused, but thoughtful, too. “Did you really think I was being a cocktease back then?”

Stannis held pressed her closer and kissed her. “Oh, absolutely,” he whispered hoarsely, sending an army of butterflies into motion in her belly. “It was quite torturous, too, as you were _underage_ ,” he added reproachfully.

“I was hardly a _child_ , though,” Sansa said with an eyeroll. She had been seventeen!

“In the eyes of the law you were,” he said as if that settled the matter. She supposed it did, at that.

“Did you really think about - um - you know… _spanking me?_ Back then?” Sansa asked, deathly curious.

Stannis blew out a breath. “It may have crossed my mind, I don’t really remember the specifics. I think I was busy concentrating on not getting hard from having my hands all over you,” he admitted ruefully.

Sansa giggled and kissed him; lazily stroking his tongue with hers and enjoying the way he tasted. It had been long enough since he ate that he was back to tasting just like himself, which was a taste she could not really describe, but that she loved utterly. Just like she loved the scent that came with every exhale through his nose - an indescribable scent, too - but one that she could not get enough of. She remembered reading something about the genes that controlled the immune system, and how people that had very different sets of those genes would be attracted to each other’s scent. Something to do with the diverse genes making for babies with very strong immune systems. It had seemed rather bonkers when she had read it, but perhaps it explained why she was so viscerally attracted to even the way his perspiration smelled when it was fresh on his skin. It really ought to gross her out, but it just _didn’t._

“What are you thinking that’s making you smile like that?” Stannis asked her, his turn to sound curious.

“Oh, nothing. I like the way you smell,” she said vaguely, not wanting to scare him with any mention of genetics or babies. She was _so_ not in the market for one of those yet. She drank moon tea religiously to make sure that she didn’t have any accidents.

“Likewise,” he murmured, leaning in for more kissing.

“Did you like… everything?” he asked her after they had made out for a while. He sounded a little nervous, which was ridiculous because hadn’t he _heard_ her? She didn’t think she had ever been that loud.

Feeling a little embarrassed to admit that she had liked being denied pleasure for so long, liked being _spanked_ and called a naughty cocktease; she just nodded, her cheeks suddenly burning again.

“All of it?” he sounded relieved and surprised, and a little aroused if she wasn’t mistaken.

“I would have said something if you had done anything I didn’t like,” she said, blushing furiously, but swallowing her pride and ignoring her embarrassment to make sure he knew she would never let him do anything she didn’t want. He still had a bit of a complex due to their first time about things like that.

“You didn’t think I was being - er - too controlling?” he asked worriedly.

“I liked it,” she whispered shyly, “it was really sexy.”

Stannis breathed out a little shakily, as if he’d been holding his breath for a while. He kissed her neck and caressed her cheek, telling her without words that he appreciated what she’d said.

“You know you can always ask me… if you want to try stuff like that,” she said temptingly, wondering if there were more hidden desires in that head of his. “Or if you want me to wear something specific,” she added on a whim.

His breath hitched slightly at what she had said about wearing something for him, and she seized on it immediately. “ _Is_ there something you want me to wear for you?”

“Er, no. I mean… maybe. It’s nothing.”

Sansa smiled at him encouragingly. He was endearingly flustered, and it was really quite funny how he could be so confident and controlling one minute, and so embarrassed and reticent the next.

“Tell me,” she wheedled, pouting at him and fixing him with a pleading look. She had discovered that he had problems saying no to her when she used that look.

“The socks,” he blurted, his face reddening, “the ones you wore at Robert’s costume party.”

“Just the socks, or the whole costume?” she asked, already trying to remember where she had stashed the costume after she had finished with it.

“Mostly the socks,” he said sheepishly.

“But you wouldn’t mind the whole costume?” she pressed on, raising an eyebrow.

“... No, I suppose not,” he admitted.

“Okay, good to know!” she chirped happily, already planning Stannis’ next surprise in her head, a devious smile playing on her lips.

She was so turned on at the idea of what she was planning, that she decided to see if she could bring Stannis’ cock back to life. It responded eagerly to her kisses, and she climbed astride his thighs and rode him as soon as he was hard enough to slip inside. Stannis’ eyes glittered as he watched her move over him, reaching for her breasts and fondling her greedily as she ground herself against him.

It ended up being one of those nights where she just _could not get enough_ and she begged him to take her again two more times after she had ridden him. The last time was well after three in the morning because she had woken up from an erotic dream, and _ached_ for him badly enough to rouse him by taking his cock into her mouth and then pleading with him until he gave her what she wanted.

She knew it was perfectly awful of her to rob him of his sleep as he didn’t have the next day off like she did, but she just couldn’t help herself. And anyway, she reasoned that if he had wanted sleep more than he wanted her, he could always just have told her no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the start of the chapter Sansa thinks about how it was inevitable that they would get caught. This gets resolved in part 2 of this chapter.


	9. Black Lace and White Socks Part 2

Stannis hadn’t felt the need to drink coffee since his last final exams in University, but today he downed three cups before he was able to function.

Why hadn’t he just told Sansa to go back to sleep that last time?

He sighed at the memory, his cock twitching against his trousers at what it had felt like to wake up with her mouth on him. He was an _idiot._

As good as it felt to wake up in such a way, he wasn’t sure it compared to what she had let him do shortly after dinner the previous night. He groaned as he recalled what it had felt like to tug on a chain and have her do whatever he wanted, what it had felt like to _spank_ her and watch her practically push her arse up to expose how wet and ready she was for him, squirming and _aching_ for his cock. She had _liked_ how he had done his best to embarrass her, had _liked_ the way he had smacked her arse and called her a naughty cocktease. But he doubted she had liked it half as much as he had.

He had to stop thinking about it. If he continued to remember he would get rock-hard, and that would just be inconvenient.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Davos asked when he caught Stannis downing his third cup of coffee.

“Didn’t get much sleep,” Stannis grumbled.

“Stressed out because of the meeting today?” Davos guessed, raising an eyebrow.

Stannis snorted. Of course he wasn’t stressed out because of a _meeting._ He wasn’t an amateur. If he lost sleep every time an important meeting was scheduled he’d _always_ need coffee in the morning.

“Hm, what kept you up then?” Davos asked curiously, giving Stannis one of his piercing looks.

Stannis felt his face warm up slightly as he tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t be completely embarrassing.

“Sansa?” Davos was grinning, obviously aware that he had come to the correct conclusion.

“No,” Stannis lied with a scowl, peering into his empty cup as if he could will some more coffee into being.

“Whatever you say,” Davos said with a smirk, rolling his eyes.

The coffee did its job, and Stannis managed to function normally for the rest of the day. No one dared to mention the dark circles around his eyes, and if he was slightly more grumpy than he usually was, it was not commented on either.

By the late afternoon he was starting to flag, however, and he was glad when the marathon meeting finally came to an end. He thought longingly of the nap he had promised himself when he got home, knowing that he should have time for it before he had to attend the business dinner with the foreign delegation. He was almost out the door when Renly stopped him.

“I’m picking you up before dinner, right?” his younger brother asked, confirming their plans for the evening.

“You don’t have to, I’m perfectly capable of driving there myself,” Stannis snapped.

“I know you are, but it’s on my way, and you know how parking is a nightmare around that restaurant. We talked about this,” Renly said, sounding exasperated and a little confused.

“Fine, fine,” Stannis sighed, waving Renly off, “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, then.”

Stannis had rarely had such vivid fantasies about his empty bed while driving home. Usually his fantasies about bed involved something other than sleeping in it, but he _really_ needed that nap.

The fact that he completely forgot about the nap as soon as he walked through his apartment door said everything that needed to be said about how good Sansa looked in that damn Little Red Riding Hood costume. 

Those white socks really should be illegal.

“Sansa…” he heard himself choke out. Was she trying to kill him?

“I know you don’t have a lot of time before that dinner, but I thought I could help you unwind after your meeting,” she flirted, coming up to him to put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest distractingly. She kissed him deeply, and stroked the back of his head, and he couldn’t help but return the kiss and wrap his own arms around her delicate frame, pressing her even closer. She moaned into the kiss as soon as he started to respond to her, and the sound went straight to his cock.

When the kiss broke Sansa moved her lips to his ear. “I seem to have lost my panties,” she whispered coyly.

Stannis groaned and immediately moved a hand to feel between her thighs, confirming that she was telling the truth. She was already quite wet, too.

He swore and closed his eyes. He was wide awake now, so he might as well enjoy what she was offering. If he was fairly quick about it he might be able to squeeze a short nap in after.

“On the table, now,” he growled at her, indicating that she should sit on the dining room table. She obeyed gratifyingly quickly, though she crossed her legs demurely at the ankles. That would not do.

He drew up a chair and sat in front of her, placing one hand on each other knees and rather rudely pushing them as far apart as they would go, exposing her to his eyes completely.

“Stannis!” she gasped, sounding surprised at his abrupt use of force, falling back on her hands to support herself.

He didn’t answer her, leaning in to lick her glistening folds instead of apologising. He worked quickly, licking and sucking at her just the way she liked, holding her thighs almost obscenely open, his grip firm to make sure she wouldn’t be able to squirm away, or into a more dignified position. He liked having her spread like this; a titillating treat on his dining room table. He was hoping to bring her off at least once before he started to fuck her. He intended to take her hard and fast, and he wasn’t sure if it would give her the time she generally needed to reach her own climax.

He was pleased when she started to keen and tremble after only a few minutes, crying his name and gasping for breath.

Stannis barely took the time to lick her through her aftershocks before standing up and quickly unbuckling his belt and struggling with his fly to release his cock. He was hard as iron and so _very_ eager for the punishing fuck he was about to serve her with.

He pushed her back, making her lie down on the table - thankfully it was a good height for this - and then grabbing her legs and making her point them straight up into the air, and then parting her thighs so that her legs were making a ‘V’ shape in front of him. He was aiming to make this as undignified as possible for her, liking the way she was already blushing with embarrassment and arousal as she realised he was going to hold onto her ankles and force her to stay this way.

Usually he was careful about entering her, and usually he always went slowly for a little while before increasing his pace. He had absolutely no patience for that now. He rammed his cock into her in one powerful thrust - making her gasp and whimper - and immediately began to thrust, hard and relentless, selfishly seeking a quick and dirty release.

“Oh, Gods, _Stannis!_ ” she cried out, sounding scandalised and completely overwrought with lust. It just made him go faster, his sac smacking against her pleasantly as he pistoned in and out of her; racing towards his impending climax.

“Do you like that?” he growled, not really knowing where the words were coming from, “do you like it when I fuck you like this, little girl? With your legs so shamelessly up in the air? Still in your pretty white socks and your pretty white dress?” He was having trouble getting the words out without grunting, but he didn’t care. The - usually quiet - dark part of his brain was in control now, and he was _enjoying_ this.

He looked down at her, enjoying the way she was blushing furiously and blinking up at him with her wide blue eyes. She looked almost innocent, and it just made him thrust harder. But then she looked thoughtful as she processed his words, getting over the shock of him saying them, tilting her head to the side a little. He probably should have known he ought to worry when her eyes started glittering with some wicked idea, but he was too far gone. His sac was tightening up, and he was in the euphoric state he sometimes reached just before he came.

“Yes… I like it _Daddy,_ ” she moaned, looking him straight in the eye with a curious, excited expression on her face.

His orgasm hit him like a bullet train, her utterly ( _wrong bad no no no why did she say that?_ ) erotic words pushing him right onto the train tracks. He felt like his cock had just exploded with pleasure, and he heard himself crying out helplessly as he continued to thrust erratically, wildly, completely out of control; holding onto Sansa's ankles like a lifeline.

She was moaning, obviously enjoying herself, but as he had suspected might happen, she did not seem to be peaking. He hadn't given her enough time. Grateful for his foresight, he did not feel too guilty about pulling out and sitting back down in the conveniently located chair right behind him. Sansa put her legs down and sat up, looking at him with a devious smile on her face.

“I _knew_ it,” she said with a wide smile, making him want to sink down into the floor. She had picked her moment much too well. That close to release he hadn’t had a hope of hiding how much he liked what she said.

She hopped down from the table and sat in his lap, kissing him chastely on the lips and looking deeply into his eyes. He forced himself to look back, even though he was dying of shame.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said softly, leaning in to whisper playfully right into his ear, “I liked it, too.”

He groaned and closed his eyes, trying to will himself into an alternate reality where he was not having this conversation. He didn’t want her to tell him that she liked it! The part of him that liked it should not be fed. It was a bad, twisted part of his personality that really should just stay starved and beaten in a corner.

“It’s sick,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Only if I were _actually_ your daughter,” Sansa said with an exaggerated eyeroll.

Stannis cringed and scrunched up his face. He actually did have a daughter, so this was making him feel completely wrong.

“Can we talk about this at some other time?” he begged, his exhaustion suddenly catching up with him again. He really, really, _really_ needed that nap.

“Sleepy?” she asked, encouraging him to rest his head on her chest, her breasts functioning as rather wonderful, soft pillows.

“Mm,” he mumbled, using words suddenly felt like too much effort. Sansa was stroking his hair soothingly, and her breathing was making her chest move up and down in a very calming way.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

***

Sansa was very amused when Stannis was practically asleep before his head hit his pillow in bed.

Perhaps she should be feeling guilty rather than amused as it was mainly her fault that he was so tired, but it was just so endearing when he was too exhausted to scowl! He tried to scowl anyway, and it turned into more of a pout, which was just too adorable for words. She didn’t tell him this, of course, as he would most likely regard it as a damaging attack on his masculinity.

Sansa was also just too pleased with herself to feel guilty. She had finally worked up the courage to test a theory she had been nursing for a while; about why Stannis had reacted so strongly to Mr. Baelish’s words at Robert’s party. Being in the costume she had been wearing at the party had helped, and his words about her pretty white socks and dress had reminded her that she wanted to try it. She had done her best to time her little experiment for when he would be at his most vulnerable, and watched his face very carefully as she did it. She hadn’t quite expected such an… _immediate_ effect, but it had given her a very clear answer.

Deep down, he liked it when she called him Daddy while he fucked her. Just thinking about it made her want to wake him up and ask for another ride. He had finished so quickly that she hadn’t managed to follow him, and she was feeling rather hot and bothered despite the orgasm he had given her with his mouth.

Thinking about his mouth didn’t really help her calm down.

She hadn’t expected him to do what he had done when he first saw her in the costume. She had half expected him to want to do something more along the lines of what they had done last night, but his abrupt aggression had been completely hot, and even though it had been a little humiliating to be spread open like that on the dining room table, it had only made her want him more. She shivered slightly at the memory of his strong grip holding her thighs almost painfully far apart as he licked at her, and she decided then and there to go make some use of the excellent water pressure in Stannis’ shower. He hardly ever used the detachable shower head, anyway.

Sansa was in the kitchen, her hair still damp from her spur of the moment shower, pouring herself a glass of water and considering whether she should bring one to Stannis, too. She really needed to wake him up soon if he was going to make it to his dinner on time. She had stolen Stannis’ wonderful, big bathrobe, and felt rather languid and happy.

When the doorbell rang she considered waking Stannis and making him answer it, but Stannis hadn’t said that he was expecting anyone, so she guessed that it was just a neighbour or something. She glanced down at herself and saw that the robe covered her more than adequately, and with a shrug she went and opened the door.

“Sansa?” Renly said, looking completely baffled to find her on the other side of the door.

 _Oops. Busted,_ Sansa thought, trying her best not to look guilty. She smiled brightly instead and asked Renly to come inside.

Renly wandered into the apartment like a lost puppy, and Sansa had to shut the door behind him because he looked too confused to do it.

“Why are you here?” Renly finally asked, after opening and closing his mouth a few times and staring at her wet hair and her obviously-too-big bathrobe.

“What would your first guess be?” Sansa asked curiously, genuinely interested in Renly’s response.

“Er, you fell into a muddy puddle nearby and came over to use the shower?” he said hopefully, his eyes practically screaming that he did not want to think about his brother possibly having sex with her.

“Close,” Sansa said, nodding and smiling, “but I think your second guess will be closer.”

“You’re not - er - you’re not sleeping with him, are you?” he asked in an awkward whisper.

“Little bit, yeah,” she said with a shrug, still smiling.

Renly opened his eyes very wide and gaped at her before remembering his manners and closing his mouth with an audible click of his teeth.

“He didn’t say you were coming over, but I suppose he was distracted…” Sansa said, talking to herself as much as she was talking to Renly. “I was just about to wake him because of this dinner he’s supposed to go to. Why don’t you have a seat while I try to get him to rejoin the land of the living?”

“Uh, yes. Thank you. I’m his ride to the dinner, by the way. That’s why I’m here. I tried calling him to tell him to come outside, but I suppose his cell is on silent if he’s sleeping…” Renly trailed off with a shrug that said: ‘oh, well.’ He took a seat on the sofa where Stannis had taken her virginity, and Sansa had to bite her tongue in order to keep from saying something. What Renly didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and anyway, there were no permanent stains.

As she made her way to the bedroom Sansa thought how pleased she was with how Renly seemed to be coping after his initial shock. She had always thought that telling Renly would be easiest, and it was nice to see that she had been right.

“Stannis,” she said softly, sitting on the bed and touching his shoulder, shaking him gently.

“Mmmf,” Stannis moaned into a pillow, obviously not ready to wake up.

“Renly’s here to pick you up for the dinner. He’s waiting in the living room, so you should probably get dressed,” Sansa said, wondering what his reaction would be to the news of Renly being in the apartment.

Stannis rolled onto his back and peered at her with one half open eye. “What?”

“Renly’s here. You need to get ready,” she repeated.

“You answered the door like that?” Both his eyes were open wide and his tone was a little panicked.

“You were asleep, and I didn’t realise you were expecting Renly. Don’t worry, he doesn’t seem all that bothered.”

“But he knows,” Stannis said, throwing his forearm across his eyes and groaning.

“I’m afraid so,” Sansa said matter-of-factly, tugging on his less dramatically engaged arm to get him to sit up. “We never intended to keep this a secret,” she reminded him.

“Yes, I know,” he sighed. He stood up without needing her to prod and poke him into it, and started to get dressed.

“I’m sure he’ll keep it to himself if that’s what you want,” she said casually, trying to hide how much she would rather just face the music. It would be nice if they could go to the Stark Christmas party as a couple.

“Hah,” he scoffed, “have you met my brother?”

“I’ve never really spoken that much with him. Is he as bad as Robert?” Sansa asked, curious about whether both of Stannis’ brothers were terrible gossips.

“Not quite, but close,” Stannis grumbled as he buttoned up a crisp white dress shirt. He was already in socks, underwear and trousers, though he was missing a belt. Sansa decided to find him a belt and choose the rest of his accessories. He had an eclectic collection of cufflinks and tie bars that she always enjoyed looking through. She liked guessing which ones were gifts from Robert, and which ones Stannis had picked on his own. It was generally pretty obvious, as Robert tended to give Stannis tacky or silly ones, but occasionally Sansa got it wrong.

As she searched through his closet she threw a glance over her shoulder. “Will it be bad?” she asked, wondering if their families would blow their collective gaskets. 

She chose a pair of elegant, round cufflinks; gold with onyx stones fixed in the centre. A matching gold tie bar with a small dot of onyx at one end came with. She thought it would look very nice with the plain black tie Stannis had already selected.

“I don’t know,” Stannis said with another sigh, accepting first a belt from her, and then the cufflinks and the tie bar. “Robert is going to have a field day,” he added grouchily as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

“Where’s my watch?” he said, looking around with a furrowed brow.

Sansa was already holding it. Quite logically, it had been on the nightstand. She held it up for him to see and smiled at him a little teasingly. “I don’t know what you do when I’m not around,” she giggled and crossed the room to put the watch on his wrist.

Stannis just huffed out a breath, but there was a smile in his eyes. She knew that he liked it when she found his things for him. He had never said, but he always seemed so pleased.

Once Stannis was presentable, and Sansa had quickly slipped on pair of jeans and a T-shirt - looking rather out of place next to Stannis dressed to the nines - they went to join Renly in the living room.

“It’s a good thing I got here early,” Renly said, looking amused and completely recovered from his earlier shock.

“Shut up,” Stannis said succinctly, glaring at his brother.

Sansa swatted Stannis’ arm lightly. “Be nice,” she warned. If they wanted any control of how the news of their ‘relationship’ got out, Stannis ought to watch his mouth. She tried to communicate this with a Look, but she couldn’t be sure that Stannis understood. His scowl of understanding was very similar to his scowl of annoyance.

“So… how long has this been going on?” Renly asked, raising an eyebrow. “Hopefully for less than a year,” he added, probably referencing her age.

“Less than two months,” Sansa said before Stannis had a chance to tell Renly to shut up again. “We haven’t really told anyone because we weren’t sure if this were going to be a long term thing,” she explained with a shrug. “You know how it is.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I thought maybe you had got together at work over the summer. There were rumours that even reached the Storm’s End division about you two,” Renly said conversationally, “something about sexual tension one could cut with a knife. I never believed a word of it, of course.”

“No, Stannis was a very professional boss,” Sansa said with a smile. She glanced at Stannis and noticed that he seemed to be fascinated by his shoes, a fierce scowl still in place, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“Does that mean you _weren’t_ a very professional employee?” Renly said jokingly, picking up on what she had left unsaid.

“Oh, no. I was a terrible tease,” Sansa laughed, shooting Stannis a devious look.

Renly stared at her for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “Really?” he asked with a grin.

“I had to do _something_ to get his attention, didn’t I?” she said innocently.

“Don’t we need to be going?” Stannis interrupted, keeping Renly from saying what he had been about to say.

They all walked to the front door, and she and Renly stood around while Stannis found his coat.

“Do you mind if I stay and study while you’re away? It’s much more quiet, here,” Sansa asked Stannis as he pulled on some gloves.

“No, that’s fine,” he said, sounding much less irritated than he had when he had interrupted Renly.

“Thank you. I’ll see you later, then,” she said, feeling a wild urge to call him ‘darling’ or something equally cute, just because Renly was there. She restrained herself, however, and looked over at Renly. “Nice to see you again,” she said politely.

The two brothers made to leave, and Sansa followed them until she stood in the doorway behind them.

“I hope you both get some important business dinner type things done tonight,” she said bemusedly, waving at them as if they were leaving her own apartment.

***

Renly managed to keep silent all the way to the car. Stannis could tell that he was dying to say something, so he wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t contain himself once they were both buckled in. Renly drove a very flashy vintage Porsche, and usually Stannis quite liked sitting in it. Right now he wished he were anywhere else.

“Are you seriously fucking Sansa Stark?” Renly exploded.

“Don’t be crass,” Stannis said, glaring at his brother, “but yes.”

“Are you insane?”

“It’s a possibility I haven’t ruled out yet,” Stannis admitted with a sigh, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of the car’s rapid acceleration.

“Robert is going to have a meltdown. But her parents know, though, right?” Renly glanced at him with an expression in his eyes that was half hopeful, half pleading.

“No,” Stannis bit out, “they definitely don’t know.”

“Ned is going to kill you,” Renly said weakly, shooting him a sympathetic look.

“I was hoping to avoid that,” Stannis muttered. He had thought the scenario over many times, trying to figure out the best way to break the news to Ned. So far he couldn’t think of anything he might say that would allow him to escape the situation alive.

“Was what she said true? About trying to get your attention over the summer? Because the rumours I heard…” Renly trailed off, obviously wanting Stannis to fill in the blanks.

“She didn’t do anything overt. Just paraded herself around in tight skirts and low-cut blouses. Flirted. Things like that.” It was strange to tell his brother about it. Strange to talk about it so… clinically.

“Huh.”

“Are men half as bad as women when they’re trying to get your attention?” Stannis wondered, unable to imagine a man using any of the tricks Sansa had used to beguile and tease him. Did Renly ever have to deal with what Stannis had experienced over the summer? Could he possibly understand the sheer torture of having a gorgeous, obviously interested woman strut around in tight little outfits and fuck-me heels, fluttering her eyelashes and smelling amazing?

“It’s different,” Renly said thoughtfully, “women are forced to be a little more circumspect about showing their interest most of the time because they’re not ‘meant’ to be aggressively interested in sex. They get called names for it. Shamed. Men tend to be a lot more straightforward, which makes things simpler, but also leaves less room for being coy and flirtatious.”

They were both silent for a while as Stannis digested Renly’s words.

“Of course, I’ve known men who are bigger flirts than any of the women I’ve ever met, so this isn’t really a universal truth or anything. Just a tendency I’ve noticed for men to just walk up and ask if you’d like to have a nice shag, while women tend to give signals that are designed to drive people crazy,” Renly said after a while, a touch of amusement in his tone.

“That sounds about right,” Stannis muttered darkly.

“I do know what it’s like, if that’s what you were driving at,” Renly said after a few beats, “wanting someone you’re not supposed to want,” he continued, “I’d wager I have more experience with it than you, actually. So often when I developed a crush on someone they would insist on turning out to be straight,” he sighed, “not that I’m bitter or anything.”

Stannis hummed shortly, agreeing that Renly might have a point there.

They drove in silence for another few minutes, the streetlights glinting off the cufflinks that Sansa had chosen for him. She had picked his favourite pair this time. He was glad of it as he probably would have worn anything she had chosen for him, even the lurid pink ones with the dice that Robert had got him at some point. He didn’t know why he didn’t just throw them away...

Stannis shook himself out of his reverie. They’d arrive at the restaurant soon and Robert would be there. He needed to know if he could trust Renly to keep quiet for a little while.

“If you understand, maybe you could keep this to yourself for a while? I still don’t really know if Sansa and I are going anywhere with this… thing.” Hardly the most eloquent way of putting it, but Stannis had no idea what to call what he and Sansa were doing without being just as crass as Renly.

“Oh, hell no. I’m telling Robert as soon as I see him,” Renly said gleefully, “you have to understand how wonderful it is that you’re finally fucking something up. It’s usually always Robert or me who do that.”

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes before,” Stannis argued, annoyed that Renly was making it sound like he had never made a false move in his life. (His entire marriage to Selyse came to mind.)

“Getting a divorce does not count. Everyone does that.”

“Fine. Will you at least let me be there when you tell him? I don’t want you to get any of the facts wrong,” Stannis asked grumpily, resigning himself to what promised to be an extremely uncomfortable evening.

Renly made a beeline for Robert as soon as they arrived at the restaurant. Stannis followed him, feeling rather like the proverbial dead man walking. As people were still arriving, most of their party were gathered in the restaurant’s bar lounge area, sitting on strange designer furniture and sipping even stranger looking drinks.

 _Pretentious_ , he thought with mild disgust.

Robert was surrounded by a group of people, entertaining them with some hilarious story or other, but Renly whispered something to him and he immediately made his excuses. “Sorry folks, seems my brothers need a word. You understand,” he said cheerfully, moving to follow Renly to a secluded corner of the lounge.

“What’s so important?” Robert asked genially, raising an eyebrow.

“Stannis is - ,” Stannis gave Renly a sharp look, warning him with his eyes to not be crass, “Stannis is sleeping with Sansa Stark!” Renly finished with a wide, shit eating grin.

Robert’s eye widened slightly, but then his features became very sceptical. “Nonsense. Is this a joke?”

Stannis ground his teeth together in irritation. Of course Robert would assume anything to do with Stannis and a woman was a joke -- as if it were so unbelievable that Sansa might like him!

“No, it’s true,” Stannis bit out through his clenched teeth.

“Well, why in the seven hells are you telling me now?” Robert sounded completely baffled and a little annoyed. “Does Ned know?”

Precious Ned. Of course that would be Robert’s first question -- not anything to do with Stannis. Robert didn’t care why he was involved with Sansa, or if it was making him happy, or _anything._ He just wanted to know if perfect Ned Stark knew about it.

“No one knows except us! I just found out because she was at his apartment when I came to pick Stannis up,” Renly blurted excitedly.

“Davos knows,” Stannis grumbled.

“Davos doesn’t count,” Renly argued snootily.

“I’ll be damned,” Robert’s eyes were widening again, and he was looking at Stannis like he’d never seen him before in his life. Stannis glared moodily back, not really knowing how to behave. He had never been in a situation where his brothers were confronting him about his teenage... girlfriend? lover? mistress? before.

Renly and Robert were both just sort of staring at him and blinking a lot, and he had the feeling that he was supposed to perhaps say something. _But what could he say?_

“What?” he ended up barking, when his brothers had started to resemble nothing more than a pair of owls.

“It’s like in that film… when the wooden puppet turns into a real boy,” Renly said to Robert, sotto voce.

Robert’s loud, booming laughter came so suddenly that it made Stannis flinch, and caused several pairs of eyes to swivel in their direction for a moment. Stannis felt himself flush slightly at the attention and tried his hardest to look uninteresting so that the other people would go back to minding their own business.

As suddenly as he started, Robert stopped. He looked deadly serious and he walked right up to Stannis under the pretense of fixing his perfectly straight tie.

“You are going to tell Ned about this no later than tomorrow. You are going to do that, or I will do it for you,” Robert said in a low voice, his tone almost pleasant if it hadn’t been for the threatening undertone.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Stannis muttered, wincing almost immediately at how petulant he sounded.

“I can still put you in a headlock, so don’t test me,” Robert growled.

Stannis crossed his arms and glared, unable to comprehend how Robert could still make him feel about eight years old.

“How did this come about, anyway?” Robert said, furrowing his brow, “not at the office?” The look on Robert’s face suggested he was horrified at the idea of them becoming intimate because of a job he had bullied Stannis into giving Sansa in the first place. “I thought those rumours were just idle gossip!”

“No, apparently Sansa was interested, but Stannis was a consummate professional,” Renly eagerly shared, practically bouncing on the balls of his feat. “She said it’s been less than two months.”

“Does it matter? We’re involved, end of story,” Stannis said in a clipped tone of voice.

“Of course it matters, don’t be a moron,” Robert spat, rolling his eyes.

“Well then, if you must know, we got back in touch with each other at your costume party. We exchanged numbers and got to talking, I invited her to dinner. Do I have to spell the rest of it out for you?”

“No, I think the phrase: ‘one thing led to another’ will do,” Robert said with a slight grimace.

Stannis thought it was very interesting how Robert saw no problem with hitting on pretty much anything in a skirt that moved, but dare to remind him of the fact that his goddaughter was not a sexless angel and he came over all faint.

“I honestly never expected you of all people to do something like this. She’s eighteen!” Robert said after glaring at Stannis for a while.

“You’ve been with scores of eighteen year olds, don’t be a hypocrite,” Stannis bit out venomously, “this isn’t about Sansa’s age, and you know it.”

“She’s Ned’s DAUGHTER!” Robert roared, finally losing his tentative grip on his temper, “MY GODDAUGHTER!”

Everyone was looking now, and Renly looked like Christmas had come early. Stannis wanted to leave, _disappear_ , but this dinner was important. He made do with scowling at the people who had turned to look, giving them a murderous glare that promised dire consequences if they didn’t immediately pretend to be deaf and blind. To his immense relief a lot of people did decide that the family squabble was none of their business, and luckily some waiters appeared to start showing people to their seats.

“I know, Robert. Calm down,” Stannis muttered.

Robert glared belligerently at him, but did attempt to calm down by taking several deep breaths and finishing his strange, brightly coloured drink.

“You have to tell Ned. He deserves to know,” Robert said, sounding very tired all of a sudden.

“You really think he needs to know? Even if I don’t know how long Sansa will be interested in seeing me?” Stannis asked, interested in his brother’s opinion despite himself. Robert did know Ned quite well, after all.

“If Ned’s brother decided to start defiling Myrcella I would definitely want to know so that I could decide how slowly to kill him,” Robert growled.

Stannis grimaced. “No one is being defiled. And this may come as a surprise to you, but I’m not terribly interested in being murdered.” Stannis hoped he had sounded convincing when he said that no one was being defiled. If he was honest with himself he would probably have to admit that he was defiling Sansa a little bit. The thought sent an incredibly inappropriate and inconvenient spark of arousal down his spine, and he had to suppress the urge to shiver slightly.

“You should have thought of that before you started anything with Sansa,” Robert said, raising his eyebrow.

“I doubt he was thinking very much with his head,” Renly sniggered, “apparently she was being rather a cocktease this summer.”

“Shut up,” Stannis hissed at Renly. Robert did _not_ need to know about that.

“Sansa would never! She’s a sweet girl. She dated my good-for-nothing son for ages, and she was always a perfect lady. Stannis was just reading something into nothing. _Weren’t you?_ ” Robert directed the last two words at Stannis in an incredibly threatening way. Stannis wondered if Robert really would put him in a headlock for a second, and had to shake his head slightly to clear the image from his mind.

“No, Sansa said it herself. Just now, back at the apartment. She literally said that she had been a ‘terrible tease’,” Renly argued, using his fingers to make air quotes.

“You must have misunderstood her,” Robert sniffed.

Renly caught Stannis’ eye and gave him an incredulous look.

They were all silent for a few beats, and Stannis didn’t know what to say or do, so he just scowled at a blank piece of the nearby wall.

Robert broke the silence. “We should go join the others. You’re telling Ned about this tomorrow, or I will. The only way to avoid bringing Ned in on this is if you’re willing to break it off straight away and never so much as _look_ at her again. Is that understood?”

Stannis wanted to shout that Robert was not the boss of him, but it was not strictly true, and also incredibly childish, so he contained himself. The painful pang he had felt at the mere idea of breaking things off with Sansa made it quite clear that whether he liked it or not, Ned would be finding out about his relationship with Sansa tomorrow.


	10. Dire Threats

“It’s going to be fine,” Sansa said for the fifth time that day as they walked up to the old Stark family home. Winterfell was a beautiful house, old and stately, but Stannis could tell that it was due for some maintenance soon. He winced at the thought of what the upkeep costs probably were. The Starks were far from being poor, but they were not swimming in gold dragons, either, judging by the fact that Sansa had needed to work for him to be able to afford a second-hand car. 

“Did you give them a reason for your visit?” he asked as they walked up the steps to the wooden front door. It was a very big, sturdy door with an ornate door knocker that was shaped like a direwolf holding a large iron ring in its jaws.

Sansa didn’t knock. She just opened the door and let them in out of the freezing cold. “I told them I wanted them to meet someone,” she said with a small smile, “I thought I should at least warn them that much.”

“Mum, Dad, where are you?” she shouted as they took off their snow-covered shoes and coats in the generously sized entrance hall. Apparently it was the Stark’s family custom to go about in socks inside the house unless they were throwing a party. He understood when he felt that the floor was warm. “Hot water pipes,” Sansa said in response to the curious expression on his face. It felt rather wonderful to walk on the toasty floor in his socks. He idly wondered if it were possible to have something like this installed at his apartment.

“Kitchen!” Ned’s voice called out.

Stannis steeled himself for what promised to be an excruciating conversation and followed Sansa through the house to the kitchen.

Ned and Catelyn appeared to be eating a light lunch, but they both stood up when Sansa came into view. They were so focused on hugging their daughter that they didn’t notice him at first, but when they did spot him they both froze and went silent.

“Sansa? I thought you said you wanted us to meet someone?” Catelyn said, looking at her daughter with a confused look on her face. She was glancing at her husband as if to silently ask him if he knew anything more than she did, but Ned looked baffled and only shrugged.

“Well, yes,” Sansa said awkwardly, “I know you’ve both met Stannis many times, but we thought we should tell you both in person that we’ve been seeing each other for nearly two months.”

Silence. The kind where the air becomes full of little particles of silence. Thick and heavy particles of silence that Stannis was starting to wonder if it was possible to choke on. A cold drop of sweat ran down his back, and he was sure he had never clenched his jaw quite as tightly shut.

“Seeing each other?” Catelyn asked gently after a while, “seeing each other how?” She was smiling, but her eyes had frozen over. It was strange to see eyes like Sansa’s look so coldly at him.

Sansa took a step towards him, taking his hand in an innocent hold that nonetheless seemed to condemn him in both Ned and Catelyn’s eyes. He swallowed nervously.

“We’re dating,” Sansa said, and somehow it felt as if she were hammering the final nail into his coffin.

“I see,” Catelyn said, still smiling and looking at him coldly. He was suddenly reminded of Cersei, and the thought made him shudder.

Stannis risked a glance at Ned. The man hadn’t said anything yet, and Stannis supposed it had something to do with the way he had gone as pale as a sheet and clenched his jaws to match him.

“I found some of your clothes in Arya’s room the other day, they must have ended up there by mistake, why don’t you come take a look and see if you want them back,” Catelyn said abruptly. Stannis’ heart stopped beating for a few seconds when he realised he was to be left alone with Ned.

“Uh, sure…” Sansa said, looking a little bewildered. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him before letting go and following her mother out of the kitchen. _No, don’t leave me!_ he thought desperately at her back. Obviously she didn’t hear him.

Ned sat down at the table again, but did not touch his food. He did not offer Stannis a seat, either. He just sat there, staring Stannis down with a furious anger that burned ice cold in his stormy grey eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ned suddenly asked, his voice deceptively soft.

Stannis was trying very hard not to fidget like a naughty child, but it was very difficult. _I’m a grown man, I’m a grown man, I’m a grown man,_ he thought repeatedly to himself, willing himself to just stay still and think of something other than: ‘your daughter seduced me! I couldn’t help myself!’ to say.

“Sansa is eighteen years old. You are old enough to be her father,” Ned continued in the same deadly calm tone.

_“Yes… I like it_ Daddy _,”_ Sansa’s moaning voice echoed in his head, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut momentarily. His brain was _not_ being helpful.

“I realise that,” Stannis forced himself to say, unclenching his jaw with difficulty.

“Do you? Do you really understand what that means?” Ned whispered, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes,” he answered, crossing his arms defensively. He hadn’t meant to do it as it gave away the fact that he felt threatened, but his arms had just decided to do it anyway.

“She has yet to reach the maturity needed to be in an adult relationship, she does not have the _experience_ or the judgment it requires. She is still a teenager!” Ned’s voice was rising steadily, although it was nowhere close to a shout. “You cannot possibly have a healthy relationship with her. The power imbalance would always be too great.”

A vision of Sansa in her lacy black collar flitted across his mind’s eye. _“I thought you might like a pet for the night…”_

“I know,” Stannis admitted quietly, trying to hide the shiver his inconvenient memory was bringing about.

“Then _why…?_ ” Ned’s voice rose briefly, his temper flaring.

“She’s beautiful, intelligent, and she made her wishes very clear. I… I’m afraid I couldn’t say no.” It felt wretched to expose his weakness of character to one of the most moral and honourable men in Westeros, but at the same time he felt almost as if a weight had been lifted from his chest -- as if confessing his weakness had somehow made it less of a burden.

Ned just sat there, staring at him and looking horribly disappointed.

“Do you care for her?” Ned asked abruptly.

Stannis thought about coming home to one of Sansa’s simple home-cooked meals, about how much he enjoyed it when she found his things, chose cufflinks for him, and helped him with his watch. He thought about how he still looked through the pictures she sent him every day; lingering more and more over the ones where she was just smiling or doing something silly -- rather than the ones where she was mostly undressed.

“Very much,” he said truthfully.

“Then you should break it off. If you care about her at all, you should have the decency to break it off,” Ned said icily.

Stannis felt himself redden, shame and anger and a lot of other feelings rising up and making him want to say a lot of stupid things.

“I can’t,” he said simply. He would not be able to give Sansa up unless _she_ asked him to.

Ned bared his teeth at him in a silent snarl that actually made Stannis take a step back. “You mean you _won’t,_ ” Ned corrected, his tone so hostile that Stannis wanted to keep backing away until he was out of the house.

“I will defer to her wishes. No one else’s,” Stannis forced out, feeling increasingly worried about his personal safety.

“That’s convenient,” Ned spat, “seeing as she’s bound to defer to _your_ wishes. That’s how a power imbalance _works._ ”

“I do not presume to tell her what to do,” Stannis argued, bristling. 

_“Yes, just… tell me what to do,”_ the Sansa in his memory said breathlessly, wearing her collar and looking at him adoringly. Stannis closed his eyes and pushed the memory away. Games in the bedroom did not count. He did not tell her what to do with her life!

“Of course not, I know you better than that. But you have to understand that she is a teenager and will be much more easily swayed by your opinions and your feelings than a grown woman who has had a chance to develop into her own person!”

“I know!” Stannis roared, losing control of his temper.

“And you’re still going to continue seeing her? Are you really that selfish?” Ned asked, voice shaking with anger.

“As long as she’ll have me. I believe that she is mature enough to make her own decisions,” Stannis said, trying to calm himself back down. The words sounded hollow after he had admitted to being aware that she might be inclined to go along with him rather than make up her own mind. But even though he admitted it was a possibility, he thought it was a very condescending view of her. Sansa was stronger than that. He _knew_ she was stronger than that.

“She’s stronger than you think,” he said out loud, trying to convince himself as much as Ned.

Ned stared at him for a while, a look of dawning realisation and horror appearing in his eyes. “You’re already sleeping with her, aren’t you?” he whispered, his face blanching.

Stannis was surprised for a moment. Had Ned really thought that they had just been going to dinner and stealing the occasional kiss for the past several weeks? He had assumed that Ned would know better than that. It was extremely difficult to realise that he had only just figured it out, and _impossible_ to meet Ned’s eyes. Instead Stannis looked down at his crossed arms and tried not to grind his teeth.

“Look at me,” Ned ordered commandingly, his icy fury sending chills down Stannis’ spine.

Stannis forced himself to look at Ned, knowing that Ned would be able to read the truth in his guilty expression. He swallowed nervously, and tensed up, wondering if Ned would throw a punch.

“If I weren’t worried that it might upset Sansa, I’d bloody your nose, Baratheon,” Ned growled.

Stannis didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say that he had made sure not to hurt her. He hadn’t given Sansa a romantic first time, and he had definitely caused more pain than necessary. It would probably be better to keep absolutely silent on the matter and not give Ned any more cause to be angry with him.

Ned was taking deep breaths and curling and uncurling his hands into fists.

“The _second_ I hear her cry because of you,” Ned bit out threateningly, “I will hunt you down, and I will make you regret ever touching her.”

Stannis nodded jerkily in understanding, his throat seizing up and his tongue drying out and sticking uncomfortably to the roof of his mouth.

Ned scowled at him, and Stannis did his best not to look completely cowed. That was how Catelyn and Sansa found them when they returned.

“You two look cheerful,” Sansa said tentatively, “is everything okay?”

Ned fixed a much less hostile expression on his face, though he still looked rather serious. But Stannis knew Ned tended to look serious most of the time.

“Fine, sweetheart. Did you find the clothes?” he asked mildly, indicating that Sansa should sit and appearing for all the world as if he had not just been threatening Stannis with bodily harm and Gods knew what else.

Stannis helped Sansa with her chair, and then hovered behind her as she told her father that the clothes in question had been old and that she didn’t need them, unsure whether he should sit or not. Catelyn sat down, so he was the only person left standing.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Stannis?” Catelyn finally asked, her tone gracious and her eyes a little less cold. Maybe Sansa had said something to thaw Catelyn towards him?

They all ended up drinking tea for a little while, the bustle of getting extra cups and figuring out who wanted milk and sugar serving to keep the tense silence at bay.

“So, what are your plans for Christmas?” Catelyn asked when the tea was no longer serving as a topic of conversation. The holiday was just around the corner, so it made sense for Catelyn to ask.

“I’m coming to stay here, of course,” Sansa said. Her statement was met with visible relief. Stannis could tell that her parents had worried that she might want to stay with him in King’s Landing.

“Shireen usually stays with me for the holidays,” Stannis said, feeling a bit awkward at the reminder of his previous marriage and child. He suddenly felt much older than his thirty-six years.

“I’ll see you both at the party, though?” Sansa said with a smile. Stannis didn’t dare look at Ned before nodding. He hoped he was still invited to the annual Stark Christmas party.

Stannis knew that Catelyn’s question about their holiday plans had been a subtle way of figuring out how serious their relationship was. She had relaxed quite a lot now that she knew they were not at the stage where they’d want to spend the holidays with each other.

“Where are the others?” Sansa asked after a few silent sips of tea.

“Arya and Bran took Rickon to the pond to try his hand at ice skating,” Catelyn said with a warm smile. Stannis noticed for the first time how much Sansa’s smile resembled Catelyn’s, and he wondered how he could ever have missed it. Of course, he hadn’t really ever paid attention to such things…

“Would you excuse Sansa and me for a moment?” Ned abruptly asked, standing up and walking to the kitchen door, waiting for Sansa to catch up with him. Stannis did not get a chance to say anything before they had both disappeared, leaving him alone with Catelyn this time. She sipped her tea serenely and fixed him with a searching look.

“I suppose Ned has already threatened you?” she asked after a long awkward silence.

He nodded a little stiffly, knowing that lying would be pointless.

“Good,” she said sweetly, “but know that whatever he might do to you if you hurt our daughter, my anger will be worse. I have no special regard for your family as Ned does, and I will feel no remorse at all if you accidentally end up completely unable to father more children.”

Her polite smile and the ice in her eyes made all the blood in his veins freeze, and he knew he had to be pale as a ghost. He nodded again, feeling a little shaky.

She continued to sip her tea as if she had just been commenting on the weather and not threatening to possibly castrate him. He crossed his legs uncomfortably and hoped that Sansa would come back soon. He only had to wait a few more minutes, but they felt like miniature eternities in the stifling silence of the kitchen.

Once Ned and Sansa returned, Catelyn offered to refresh everyone’s tea, but both Stannis and Sansa politely declined the offer, preferring to finish the dregs they already had.

They ended up staying only a little longer than it took to finish the last few drops of their tea. Sansa and Catelyn made small talk and Ned kept shooting Stannis dark looks that he tried his best to ignore. 

In the car on the way back to King’s Landing Stannis worked up the courage to ask Sansa what Ned had wanted to say to her in private.

“Oh, you know, just asking if I was having some sort of teenage rebellion, or whether I was punishing him for something, and generally despairing over his choices as a father,” Sansa said with a shrug and an exaggerated roll of her eyes, “I told him to stop being dramatic and that not everything is about him,” she added. “What did he say to you?”

“Just… things,” Stannis muttered.

“Was he very dramatic?” she asked curiously.

“He was a little upset.”

“I hope you didn’t listen to him. He still thinks I’m thirteen, I swear.”

Stannis didn’t answer her, focusing instead on the road and on gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Did Mum say anything to you?” she asked after a few minutes of silent driving.

“She told me not to hurt you,” he said vaguely. Sansa did not need to know about the castration threats.

“Really?” Sansa sounded interested, but Stannis didn’t elaborate. Instead he asked what she had spoken to Catelyn about while they had ostensibly been looking at Sansa’s old clothes.

“Mum wanted to know if you were being a gentleman and if I was making sure to drink moon tea,” Sansa said, a note of embarrassment in her voice,

“What did you tell her?”

“Well, first I told her that you like to tie me up and spank me, but for some reason she didn’t believe me,” Sansa said teasingly. Stannis wasn’t amused and he shot her an irritated glare.

“No, of course I didn’t say anything like that, don’t worry. I just said that you were making me very happy and that I was being careful about drinking my tea.”

“I’ve never tied you up,” he grumbled, feeling better now that he was assured that Sansa hadn’t said anything crazy that might get back to her father.

“Do you want to?” she asked flirtatiously, making him groan and nearly drive into a snowdrift.


	11. The Stark Christmas Party Part 1

Sansa took a great deal of care with appearance when she got ready for the Christmas party, despite Arya’s constant attempts at sabotage. 

It was strange how quickly she fell back into the Winterfell routine as soon as she was sleeping in her old room again. Get up, argue with Arya, help with Christmas preparations, argue some more with Arya, try to get Rickon to eat his food and end up with food in her hair, take a shower, run all over the house to retrieve her hairbrush from her thieving little sister, help her mother bake cookies and spend most of that time convincing Arya not to eat the batter as if she were a five year old…

It was a little hectic, but it was home.

She missed Stannis, though. It had been five whole days since she had seen him, and it felt like an eternity. She was taking extra care to look amazing for the party because he would be there, and she wanted him to miss her, too. If he wasn’t missing her already, he was sure to miss her quite badly when he saw the dress she had decided to wear. It was a very festive, sparkly gold dress, but tasteful -- none of those tacky sequins. She put on a pair of black stiletto heels that never failed to garner a second glance from Stannis, and did some last minute touch-ups on her makeup before she left her room, pleased to note that her hair was behaving nicely. The soft waves were romantic and pretty, and she hoped they would make Stannis want to run his hands through them.

Sansa was surprised at how her parents had left the issue of her relationship with Stannis alone since she had come home for the holidays. She had expected them to want to discuss it in more detail than her short visit with Stannis had allowed them to. Sansa still cringed on the inside at the memory of those conversations. Her mum hadn’t been _too_ bad, but Sansa had still felt mortified the entire time. She had tried to put on a brave face - especially when Stannis had been around to see - but it had been _awful_ to tell her mother that she was drinking moon tea. She didn’t even want to think about the horrified, heartbroken way her father had looked at her when they had been alone, the way he had begged her to break it off with Stannis, saying something about how she didn’t have to go along with anything she wasn’t ready for, and that she definitely didn’t have to stay with Stannis any longer than she wanted. Then he had started to moan about what a failure as a father he had to be, and asking her if she was trying to punish him for something. (Though he hadn’t phrased it quite like that; she had read between the lines.)

It had been so awkward.

Despite the lingering weirdness of ‘coming out’ to her parents about their relationship, she had started to think of Stannis as her boyfriend in her head -- even though it felt like a rather juvenile word for him. They still hadn’t really had the Conversation, though. _Where are we headed? What are we? What do we want from each other?_ All questions that they were both studiously ignoring in favour of plodding along as they had been, spending most of their free time together and having ridiculous amounts of sex. The first two days after the talk with her parents had been strange, though. Stannis had been subdued and pensive and had given her a lot of searching looks. She had done her best to put him at ease; making sure he knew how happy she was with him and showering him in affection. Soon he had been back to his old self for the most part. Still, Sansa hoped they’d be able to have a proper discussion about their relationship at some point.

Five days without sex seemed like a lot to Sansa, and she wondered how Stannis was coping. Hopefully not too well since she was sending him a _lot_ of flirtatious pictures. She had even snapped one of herself in the mirror after she had just got out of the shower, some strategic steam on the glass the only thing preventing the picture from being X rated.

He had never really got the hang of flirting back, but he had been sending her some pictures of what he was getting up to with Shireen, and that made Sansa incredibly happy. Him wanting to share that with her felt precious and wonderful, and she was nearly as excited to see Shireen at the party as she was to see Stannis. She always liked seeing Shireen, but her excitement stemmed from the fact that tonight would be the first time she saw Shireen after Stannis told her he was involved with Sansa. She was a little nervous about it, too, but Shireen was a sweet girl and Sansa was sure they’d get along just as well as always.

“Wow,” said her cousin Jon when he saw her, “you look beautiful.” He kissed her on the cheek and she smiled at him. Jon had become so handsome and confident now that he was grown up, and Sansa almost had trouble believing he was the same boy who had asked her how to talk to girls once upon a time.

“Watch it, that’s my sister,” Robb said, having observed Jon kiss her cheek. Jon just rolled his eyes and moved aside so Robb could give her a hug.

“You look like a walking felony,” Robb said playfully, “are you trying to put Stannis into an early grave?”

“He’s hardly in danger of getting a heart attack,” Sansa scoffed, “he’s thirty-six, not seventy-six!”

“No, but if he looks at you a little too much Dad might decide to do him in,” Robb said, laughing and ducking out of the way when Sansa attempted to smack the back of his head for being a moron.

Her siblings had all found out about her relationship with Stannis soon after her parents. Robb had not been quite as amused by it at first, but when Sansa had reminded him of all the secrets she was keeping for him and Theon, he had quickly decided that Stannis was a stand up bloke, really.

Arya hadn’t really commented on it except to make a face and ask why on earth anyone would bother dating Sansa after she had shown herself to have the bad taste to go with Joffrey for over a year. Bran hadn’t seemed surprised, bothered, interested, amused or _anything._ To him it was just another piece of information to file away. Rickon was too young to really comment on it one way or another.

When the guests started to arrive Sansa turned on the charm, playing the perfect hostess along with her mother; greeting, chatting and offering refreshments. She hoped each time there was a knock at the door that Stannis would appear on the other side of it, but he was among the last to arrive.

Shireen looked adorable in a gorgeous faux fur coat with a matching hat and gloves, and Sansa learnt that the outfit had been a gift from her parents. “Mum thought I ought to get real fur, but Dad says that it is wasteful to kill animals just for their skin,” Shireen explained with all the sincerity of a seven year old.

Sansa smiled up at Stannis from the position she had folded herself into to get her eyes level with Shireen’s, it was rather a precarious pose due to her heels, but she had a good sense of balance and had read that one should always try to look children in the eye if and when possible. It built trust. She always did it with Rickon, too.

“Your father is a very smart man,” Sansa said seriously to Shireen, and Shireen nodded as if this were a well known fact.

“Are there colouring books downstairs?” Shireen asked, obviously remembering that the downstairs den was usually reserved for the children.

“Of course,” Sansa chirped, “and storybooks too if you want to read,” she added.

After that piece of knowledge had been imparted, Shireen could not get her lovely coat off fast enough. She disappeared downstairs in the blink of an eye.

Stannis held a hand out to help her get up and she took it gratefully. His support allowed her to rise up much more gracefully than she would have managed on her own, and she ended up standing very close to him in a wonderful way. She breathed deeply, enjoying his scent and basking in his closeness.

“Thanks,” she said, the word coming out a bit dazed as she felt like a spell had been cast over her. He was staring at her with his dark blue eyes in a way that felt completely arresting, and she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks in response to the intense gaze. Would anyone notice if they just… locked themselves in her room for a little while?

“Leave room for the Maiden,” Robb said as he came over to say hello, sounding like he thought he was _hilarious._

Stannis moved away from her stiffly, scowling at Robb.

“Don’t be a jerk,” Sansa said in a voice of honey laced with venom, giving her brother a pointed look that promised ‘or else’.

“I’m just messing around,” Robb said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “but I would be remiss in my duties as older brother if I did not at least do a little posturing.” Robb proceeded to attempt to loom threateningly over Stannis - a task made difficult by the fact that Robb was shorter than Stannis - and give the older man a weird, exaggerated version of the evil eye.

“Now don’t you dare mistreat my precious little sister, or I shall be forced to lose horribly to you in a fist fight, and that will just be embarrassing,” Robb said with an ill-concealed grin, wagging his finger in Stannis’ general direction.

Stannis just raised an eyebrow.

“Go away,” Sansa said flatly, completely unamused by Robb’s antics.

Once Robb was out of earshot, Sansa turned to give Stannis an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about him, he was dropped on his head as a child.”

“He has that in common with the man he’s named after,” Stannis muttered, his eyes looking vaguely amused. 

Sansa laughed and felt incredibly happy to have Stannis back. Having him in front of her made her realise exactly how much she had missed him while they had been parted.

“You look really handsome,” she said, blushing again as she let her eyes sweep from his head to his toes. He was wearing one of his nicer suits, tailored to fit him like a glove and show off his broad shoulders and narrow waist, rich fabric that was so black that it seemed to drain the light from the surroundings, and shoes that were shiny enough to function as mirrors. She was pleased to see that his tie had gold stripes because that meant they matched. She brushed some imaginary dust from his shoulders for an excuse to touch him, and gave him a look that was probably rather embarrassingly full of adoration.

Stannis gave her a heated look in return before leaning in to place his lips near her ear. “And you look far too tempting,” he whispered. He straightened out quickly, looking nervously around to check if anyone had noticed.

She giggled, pleased with the compliment and pleased to know that her look for the evening was having its intended effect.

“I’ve missed you,” she breathed out with a sigh, wanting nothing more than to put her arms around his neck and just hang off him like a clingy baby monkey. That would probably not be appropriate under the circumstances, however, so Sansa contained herself. She made do with running her hands down his jacket lapels and fiddling unnecessarily with his tie. She couldn’t seem to make herself stop touching him, and she liked the knowing look he was giving her because of it.

“Oh, get a room,” Renly said with a snort as he passed them by.

Sansa felt herself blush crimson with embarrassment, and Stannis tensed up. Renly’s comment had drawn her mother’s attention, and she walked over to welcome Stannis.

“Sansa, why are you two still standing by the door? Come in, have a drink,” she said gracefully even as she shot Sansa a stern look. She led Stannis and Sansa towards the table of refreshments and pointed Stannis towards the pitcher of lemon water, knowing better than to offer him bubbly or eggnog. Sansa wasn’t thirsty, but she selected a canapé and nibbled on it as daintily as she could.

“I think almost everyone is here, now. I should go find Ned and tell him,” Sansa’s mother said apologetically, taking her leave.

Her mother had barely been gone a minute when Robert spotted them and called for Stannis. “Stannis! There you are, come over here, Wyman and I were just talking about you.”

Stannis sighed, but courteously offered her his arm to escort her over to his brother. Sansa was touched by the gesture and immediately tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling rather like a princess. It felt lovely to hold onto him, both because it was allowing her to touch him - which she always enjoyed - and because holding onto his arm steadied her and supported her, making it easier to walk a little faster on her stillettos.

“So it’s true, then!” Wyman Manderly chortled when they reached him and Robert, eyeing the way Sansa was decorating Stannis’ arm with amusement. “I’m crestfallen! I had my heart set on having Sansa as a daughter-in-law.”

Sansa gaped at Mr. Manderly. His unmarried son - Wendel - was older than Stannis, and rather unattractive, though she supposed he was a jolly good-natured sort of man.

"I don't think Sansa was aware of your dreams," Robert said, affecting the air of a person who was breaking some truly devastating news.

They both laughed uproariously at their hilarious jokes for a while as Stannis and Sansa exchanged exasperated looks. Stannis dropped his arm since they were no longer walking, but before she could become too disappointed she felt his hand touching the small of her back, settling in to rest there possessively. She shot him a pleased look to let him know she liked it, and felt him move his thumb in a slow caress in response.

"I don't think I'll be marrying anyone quite yet," Sansa said with an amused smile when Robert and Mr. Manderly finally stopped laughing.

"Quite right, finish school first," Robert said cheerfully, "hear that Stannis? No proposals for at least three or four years."

Sansa felt Stannis' hand on her back twitch and he pressed his fingers more insistently against the thin material of her dress.

"Robert," she scolded, "don't tease."

"I'm afraid it can't be helped. Older brothers can't help but tease their younger siblings, it's just the way of things."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous," Sansa said with a raised eyebrow, fighting a blush and stifling the side of her personality that was mortified at speaking in such a bold way to someone like _Robert Baratheon_ \-- even if he _was_ her godfather.

"Jealous?" Robert laughed, "my surly younger brother has somehow managed to charm the most precious, beautiful girl - after Myrcella, of course - in all of Westeros into looking at him like he hangs the moon. Why on earth would I be jealous about that?" He winked at her and took a big gulp of his eggnog.

Sansa giggled and swatted at Robert's arm lightly, thrilled at how well he had taken her daring words. Robert could be quite charming himself when he put his mind to it, and she liked it when he turned on the charm for her. She glanced at Stannis to see his reaction to Robert's words and was unsurprised to see him scowling and glaring in annoyance. Did she really look at him like he hung the moon? The thought of it made her smile to herself, a delighted warm feeling coursing through her.

"Ah, young love!" Mr. Manderly exclaimed happily, giving Sansa a sappy, amused look. His words made her blush furiously as she had not even allowed herself to think the "L" word in connection with Stannis. Not yet. Stannis' hand had twitched against the small of her back again, but she didn't dare glance at him to see his expression.

"Speaking of love... where are Cersei and the kids?" Mr. Manderly asked Robert, thankfully taking the focus off Sansa and Stannis.

"Love! Hah! My _darling_ wife is in the Westerlands with the old lion. Cersei insisted on spending the holidays there and the kids go where she goes.”

Sensing that Robert might be about to start one of his rants about Cersei, Sansa politely excused herself and Stannis from the conversation in order to go say hello to some new arrivals. Her aunt Lysa and her family had just arrived -- fashionably late. Stannis did not seem thrilled at the prospect, but Sansa supposed he thought anything was better than listening to Robert go on about his wife, because he went along with her without protesting.

Aunt Lysa seemed surprised to see Sansa on Stannis’ arm, which led Sansa to assume that her mother had not got around to informing her sister of the newest relationship in the family. Mr. Baelish did not seem to think it the least bit odd, however, which struck Sansa as very peculiar. Why would he know about it but not his wife? Or was he simply that good at hiding his reaction? He ended up telling her himself when Sansa had finished explaining to Aunt Lysa how she had ended up in a relationship with Stannis.

“I had heard that you two had been spotted out together, but I confess I’m surprised that it’s serious enough for you to let it become public knowledge,” he said, not looking particularly surprised at all, “usually when men find themselves young little mistresses they keep it hushed up...” he added, trailing off and raising an eyebrow. The way he looked at her when he called her Stannis’ young little mistress made Sansa’s stomach clench up uncomfortably. Somehow she got the feeling that he was talking about himself. About how he’d quite fancy her as his ‘young little mistress’ and that he would _definitely_ keep it hushed up.

She could not believe that he’d just said what he’d said _out loud_ and in front of her and Aunt Lysa, too! She stared at him incredulously and felt herself blush with embarrassment and anger.

“I am not his _mistress_ ,” Sansa said coolly, “and we never tried to hide anything.” She took comfort in how Stannis was now fully holding her around the waist rather than keeping his hand on the small of her back; feeling protected by his arm around her.

“Just a turn of phrase, no offence meant,” Mr. Baelish said airily.

“I’m afraid we’re offended nonetheless. Apologise,” Stannis said, iron authority in his voice.

“Of course. I’m very sorry to have offended, do please forgive me,” Mr. Baelish said, his strange eyes glittering with amusement.

“Really, Petyr. You say the silliest things sometimes,” Aunt Lysa said, rolling her eyes as if he had done something like call Sansa by Arya’s name by mistake.

Before they had a chance to say anything else, Sansa’s father took his place halfway up the main staircase, making sure everyone milling about in the entrance hall could see him.

“Welcome everyone! My wife tells me everyone we were expecting has arrived. The buffet is ready in the next room if you’d like to proceed, and more drinks will be available, too. Enjoy the party and let me or my wife know if there’s anything you require.”

Her father’s short speech provided her and Stannis with a suitable excuse to walk off and leave Aunt Lysa and Mr. Baelish to their own devices. But instead of following the crowd into the dining room, Sansa led Stannis to the kitchen and to the narrow staircase that servants had used back when the Stark family still had servants.

“Is this a terribly good idea?” Stannis asked once they were upstairs and the noise of the party had faded away.

“I just want to show you my room and maybe give you a proper kiss,” Sansa said with a mischievous grin, “it won’t take too long. We’ll be back downstairs before anyone notices that we’re missing.”

“A proper kiss?” Stannis asked, sounding very interested.

“Yes, the kind you don’t do in front of your parents and all their friends,” Sansa explained with a giggle.

Stannis nodded once and gestured for her to lead on. She gave him a delighted smile and grabbed his hand, tugging him along the corridor to her bedroom. Tugging, because she couldn’t very well drag him as she was wearing wobbly heels, and was much less strong than he was.

She felt a bit silly about showing him her childhood room, but she knew that the lock on her door worked, and she wouldn’t feel right bringing him into any other room to have a private moment.

“I know it’s still rather childish in here,” Sansa said apologetically, “I meant to redecorate a couple of years ago, but I didn’t end up bothering since I knew I’d be moving to King’s Landing for school,” she explained. Thankfully she had at least packed away her collection of porcelain dolls and her silly boy band posters.

Stannis did not seem to care, he was looking at her -- not their surroundings. She smiled at the hungry look in his eyes and licked her lips quickly, anticipating a kiss. She was not disappointed. She had never made out with Joffrey in her room, having convinced him early on that her mother did not allow her to have boys in her room, and being able to kiss a 'boy' in her room now felt rather thrilling. She remembered lying in her bed at thirteen and wondering if she would ever get a boyfriend, or whether she would simply be alone forever. The boys at school all seemed so dreadfully immature, and the few who did seem interested in slow dancing with girls and stealing kisses, were all so… gross. She had been comparing them with Joffrey at the time, and as much of an arse as Joffrey was, he was at least very beautiful and well-mannered when he could be bothered.

She wished she could send an encouraging message to her past self, something sweet and uplifting. _’You’ll soon get more attention from boys than you’ll know what to do with! Just wait and see! And make sure to tease Stannis Baratheon until he goes out of his mind. Totally worth it.’_

It really was worth it, she thought as he kissed her passionately, letting his hands drift down her sides to her waist, holding her there and making her feel rather tiny and weak in his large grasp. Kissing him was always good, but after five days without anything except pictures to keep them warm, there was a desperation to the clash of their tongues and teeth that had not been there since the beginning.

“Gods, you look gorgeous,” Stannis rasped when Sansa broke the kiss to lick his neck for a little bit, “you don’t know how much I wanted to bend you over the refreshment table and fuck you until all the glasses fell to the floor and shattered,” he confessed, making her moan against his neck and paw at his shoulders uselessly. He was still holding her waist with one hand, but the other had inched its way lower and was currently making its way up the skirt of her short dress. Her moans turned into a halfhearted sound of protest when he reached her panties, rubbing her through the damp cotton.

“Mmm, no… we shouldn’t... someone might come looking for us if we’re away for too long,” 

Stannis silenced her token protests with a kiss, and moved her over to her neatly made bed. When the back of her legs hit the side of the bed, Stannis stopped kissing her and turned her around. He swatted her backside once and said, “on the bed,” to make her place her knees on the mattress, pushing her until she fell forward, ending up on all fours with him standing behind her. She heard him unbuckle his belt, and the clinking of the metal caused a flood of heat to move through her, pooling in a very familiar way between her thighs, soaking her underwear further.

“Be quiet,” he said commandingly as he roughly pulled her skirt up until her panties were on display. Her panties didn’t cover much - she had worn a G-string to avoid panty lines - but he pulled them down anyway, stretching them between her spread thighs, exposing her fully. He didn’t do anything for a full minute except watch her squirm and make herself wetter and wetter for him. She could tell that he was staring at her even without looking at him, but she did look over her shoulder to make sure. The look in his eyes made her bite her lip to prevent a moan from escaping. (He had told her to be quiet.) He was looking at her with his intent to ravish her written all over his face, his nostrils flaring as if he were trying to collect every particle of her scent, his eyes glittering with desire, and his jaw muscles working furiously. 

Suddenly he started to push his cock into her, slowly and carefully, letting her really feel him stretch her open. An involuntary moan of pleasure escape her before she could stop herself, and Stannis gave the side of one of her buttocks a smack for her trouble. “Quiet,” he repeated in a strained voice, still in the middle of inching his cock slowly into her.

Sansa got down on her elbows to make the angle a little better for her, but had to be careful not to bury her face in the bedspread. If she ruined her makeup or her hair she’d give them away. No sooner had she got down on her elbows then she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, pulling her back up to her hands.

“Don’t move unless I tell you to,” he ordered, voice still strained. He was almost buried to the hilt, and Sansa whimpered with need. He gave her another smack for the noise and bent forward, fitting his chest to her back, growling, “that was your last warning,” right into her ear. Then he sank the rest of the way into her, making no noise himself except a slightly louder exhale than usual.

He rose up, standing tall behind her, grasping her hips. He started to fuck her slowly, filling her wonderfully, and giving her the sort of friction that made her want to moan his name in ecstasy. But she kept quiet. She managed to keep quiet through so many torturous, slow strokes of his cock - even though it was all she could do not to beg him for more - and she was almost starting to feel rather proud of herself for her ability to stay silent when he surprised her by speeding up.

“Oh!” she gasped with pleasure, stopping herself immediately from making more noise, trying to keep to Stannis’ rule, but she was too late.

“I did warn you,” he said, a little breathless from his exertion, leaning over a little and reaching for her face with one hand and for her shoulder with the other. He placed his large hand over her mouth and kept it there, effectively preventing her from making any more noise. Her heart had already been pounding, but this made it speed up even further. She wasn’t frightened as she knew that Stannis would let go at her first sign of distress, but she was incredibly excited by it, and she pressed herself back against Stannis as much as she could, meeting his thrusts eagerly, to show him how much she liked it. His breathing sped up right along with the pace of his thrusts, and soon he was panting as he fucked her on her childhood bed, his hand covering the lower half of her face and reminding her to stay quiet, lest someone hear them and investigate the noise. Just thinking about what they were doing was enough to push Sansa the small distance that remained for her to reach her orgasm, and she started to feel the heat unfurl from her centre, spreading out and making her tense up and shudder. She wanted to moan Stannis’ name, but she liked how he was preventing her from being able to; it made what they were doing feel so delightfully _illicit._

“I can feel you… I can feel you coming, oh, _fuck!_ ” Stannis whispered breathlessly, the words turning into a low groan as his thrusts turned brutal with his climax.

He let go of her mouth as his movements slowed, grabbing her hips again while he eased himself to a halt. He pulled out of her and sticky, viscous fluid immediately started to seep out of her and leak slowly down the inside of one thigh. It felt gross, but also strangely sexy in a very naughty sort of way. Thankfully she had tissues in her room, as she could hardly rejoin the party with come running down her legs. Not for the first time in her life she wished her room had an en suite.

They cleaned themselves up the best they could with her tissues, and helped each other straighten their clothes out.

“Did you forego hosiery on purpose?” Stannis asked, stroking her bare thighs and raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she said coyly, “maybe not.” The idea that Stannis might end up having sex with her during the party hadn’t really crossed her mind as an _actual thing that might happen,_ but maybe on a subconscious level she had made sure it wouldn’t be too complicated for him to ‘gain access’.

Anyway, her shoes looked better when worn barefoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to split this chapter in two as it got a bit long. More Christmas party shenanigans to come in the next update.


	12. The Stark Christmas Party Part 2

They rejoined the party looking much the same as they had looked before they had snuck off, but Sansa was wearing a fresh pair of underwear and still a little sticky on the inside of her thighs. She hoped her perfume was enough to disguise the smell of sex she was sure was clinging to her, while at the same time hoping Stannis would be able to smell it on her every time she stood very close by him.

After several minutes of mingling and pretending not to be nervously trying to figure out whether anyone had noticed their absence Sansa started to relax. No one was paying them any more mind than before. They got exactly the same kind of run of the mill curious looks, and no appalled or scandalised ones.

She should have known that they wouldn’t be quite that lucky.

As soon as Stannis went to fetch them some food - letting her sit, rest her feet and save them a spot at an actual table so that they wouldn’t have to balance their plates on their knees - Mr. Baelish sat down next to her, Aunt Lysa nowhere in sight.

“Hello again,” he said, smiling in that odd way that didn’t reach his eyes.

Feeling unaccountably relieved that they were in a room full of people, Sansa answered him. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Baelish?” she said coolly.

“You know, you reek of sex,” he said conversationally, but in a low tone of voice that wouldn’t carry.

Sansa stiffened up and felt herself blush.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you...” he said in the same easy going tone. His hand touched her knee under the table and Sansa stopped breathing. “... If you don’t tell on me,” he added calmly.

“Leave me alone,” Sansa said, glaring at her aunt’s husband and wishing he would slither back under the rock he had crawled out from.

“Now, now. I’m not asking much,” he said, sounding amused, “just a little touch.” He inched his fingers up her bare thigh, and Sansa was unable to suppress a shudder.

“Stop it,” she hissed, moving her legs out of his reach.

His eyes seemed to harden, the grey becoming more noticeable than the green -- as if his eyes had just turned to stone. “Have it your way. Perhaps I will accidentally let something… slip.” he said and the threat hung heavy in the air.

Sansa didn’t care. She would much rather get in trouble for escaping to have a few private minutes with the man she was in a relationship with than let her creepy ‘uncle’ feel her up.

“Please leave,” she asked him, polite on the surface but glaring at him fiercely to make sure he knew she was not at all amused.

Mr. Baelish nodded mockingly and stood up to leave, brushing by Stannis as he arrived with a plate filled with a selection of buffet dishes.

“Was he bothering you?” Stannis asked as he sat down with her.

“Yes,” Sansa said bitterly, “he was threatening to tell on us for disappearing,” she explained with disgust. Stannis did not need to know that Mr. Baelish had been angling to grope her. It would only upset him.

Stannis scowled at his food. “He should mind his own business,” he muttered, “but he can’t really do much damage - he has no proof. It was probably an empty threat.” 

She realised Stannis was right. Even if Mr. Baelish told her father he thought she and Stannis had been off having sex, it was his word against theirs, and she was relatively sure her father would be more inclined to believe her than Mr. Baelish. Sansa pushed the disturbing incident from her mind and focused on tasting the food Stannis had brought with him. It was all delicious, and soon Sansa was too preoccupied with getting Stannis to taste everything he had brought for them to think about Mr. Baelish and his wandering hands.

After they had eaten Stannis wanted to go check on Shireen and make sure the food that was available for the younger generation had been to her liking. They ended up staying with Shireen for a while because Shireen asked Sansa if she would draw her pictures inspired by one of the stories she had been reading. She said she wanted to colour them for her father and Sansa couldn’t possibly say no. Stannis seemed content to sit nearby and watch them draw and colour one masterpiece after another.

Eventually Bran came over with some new books for Shireen to look at, and Sansa and Stannis took their leave.

The first person their ran into when they rejoined the party was Roose Bolton. Sansa was convinced he was a serial killer, but as he worked with her father she always had to be polite to him. His wife was nice enough, though, and Mr. Bolton was miles easier to talk to than his son Ramsay. She was glad that she hadn’t seen Ramsay in years, as even when he had been a kid he’d been rather disturbed. Sansa surreptitiously glanced around, wondering if Ramsay was anywhere nearby, but Mr. Bolton seemed to be on his own. Sansa pasted on her best polite smile and tightened her grip on Stannis’ arm.

“Good evening,” Mr. Bolton said mildly, his cold eyes assessing her and looking pointedly at where her hand was tucked into the crook of Stannis’ elbow.

“Good evening Mr. Bolton. How is your wife?” Sansa responded, trying to make her voice serene and courteous.

“She’s well, thank you. She did not feel up to coming tonight as she is quite far along,” Mr. Bolton explained in a bored tone of voice. Sansa had never known him to be very interested in smalltalk.

Sansa asked a few polite questions about how the pregnancy had been treating her, and whether they knew the sex of the child. Mr. Bolton gave her short answers, yet he did not seem inclined to end the conversation. Sansa suspected he wanted to gather information about her relationship with Stannis, although she had no idea why as Mr. Bolton had never seemed to be the type to interest himself in other people’s relationships.

“I see you and Mr. Baratheon are together,” Mr. Bolton eventually said, once the topic of Mrs. Bolton’s pregnancy had been exhausted, “my son will be disappointed.” Mr. Bolton did not seem troubled by his son’s potential disappointment, and simply stared at Sansa with his emotionless eyes and creepy little smile.

“Yes, Stannis and I have been seeing each other for about two months now,” Sansa said, smiling at Stannis for a moment and thinking about how the time had simply flown by.

“Why would your son be disappointed?” Stannis asked nonchalantly. Sansa could tell that he was tensing up despite his unconcerned tone, and she knew Stannis was feeling protective when he snaked an arm around her waist again as he had done when they had been talking to Mr. Baelish and Aunt Lysa.

“He recently expressed an interest in Sansa. Apparently he saw her at the market in town a few days ago and took a liking to her,” Mr. Bolton said, cocking his head to the side in a way that reminded Sansa eerily of a bird of prey.

“Well, I’m taken,” Sansa said with a forced smile, feeling rather bewildered by all the attention she was garnering from the men at the party and their sons. (Even though Mr. Manderly had probably been joking, she hoped.)

Mr. Bolton looked at Stannis’ firm hold on her waist. “Clearly,” he said and raised an eyebrow.

“I need to go talk to my mother about the desserts, I hope you’ll excuse us,” Sansa said, wanting to get away from Mr. Bolton. He nodded and moved to let them pass him by.

Once they were out of earshot Sansa shuddered and whispered, “that man gives me a serious case of the creeps.”

“Understandably,” Stannis said in a low voice, “he’s got a nasty reputation.”

Sansa actually did go and help her mother with the desserts for a little while, leaving Stannis to mingle - or more likely stand around and scowl at people - on his own.

***

As soon as Sansa was safely in the kitchen with her mother, Stannis marched straight towards Baelish.

“Might I have a word, please?” Stannis said threateningly through clenched teeth, his ‘please’ sounding more like a curse word than a polite one. Stannis was interrupting a conversation Baelish had been having with his wife and an older couple Stannis only vaguely recognised, causing Baelish to excuse himself from the conversation with an amused expression, allowing Stannis to lead him to a more secluded part of the room.

“You will _desist,_ ” Stannis bit out, speaking quietly to avoid making a scene.

“Oh, stop being a bore. I barely touched her,” Baelish said with an eyeroll, “and it’s really quite churlish of you not to share.”

Stannis tried not to reveal how surprised he was at the man’s words. Had Baelish touched Sansa? Why hadn’t she told him? To cover up his confusion he bared his teeth in a quiet snarl and used his height to his advantage, looming threateningly over the shorter man. “You will not lay a finger on Sansa again, and you will not spread stories about things that are no concern of yours,” he growled.

“Or what?” Baelish asked, looking amused rather than threatened.

“Don’t test me,” Stannis said, bristling at the man’s rude refusal to look cowed.

“What’s it like to have her?” Baelish asked, utterly shameless, “I bet she’s soft and yielding and _perfectly tight,_ ” he added with a filthy smirk. Then, as if he hadn’t gone quite far enough over the line, he leant closer and whispered, “does she call you Daddy?”

Stannis saw red. Anger, guilt, and hot shame coursed through him and made every cell in his body cry out for Baelish’s blood. It was one thing to say obscene things to him about Sansa when Stannis had not been involved in a relationship with her, but to continue this disgusting behaviour after Baelish _knew_ they were in a relationship? He felt like Baelish was poisoning some of his memories, and poking a sharp stick into an open wound. It was not to be borne.

“Outside, _now_ ,” Stannis said commandingly, narrowing his eyes. He had never been the type to get involved in fistfights - that had always been Robert’s special talent - but Stannis had a very clear vision of himself breaking Baelish’s face, and he found himself wanting to make it a reality.

“Relax, I’m not going to fight you like some sort of _peasant._ I thought you had a touch more class than your dear older brother,” Baelish said with distaste.

Stannis ground his teeth and glared at Baelish, feeling a vein throbbing dangerously in time with his heartbeat on the side of his neck. “You will never speak of Sansa that way again. You will not look at her and you will not _touch her._ Do you understand me?” His voice shook with rage, and his hands had curled into fists. _Just give me a reason, you bastard,_ Stannis thought to himself grimly.

“Am I to understand that you will enact some sort of violence on my person if I refuse?” Baelish asked with the same tone of distaste as before. “How medieval,” he added with a put upon sigh.

Stannis had the wild urge to crack his knuckles, but resisted it. He was not a _thug._ He just continued to glare murderously at Baelish, willing the man to kowtow.

“Oh, _fine_. I’m not in the mood to get blood on this suit. It’s new,” Baelish said, acting as if Stannis were being completely unreasonable to want him to leave Sansa alone. “I’ll stay away if you insist on monopolising her.”

“I do insist,” Stannis growled.

“I’ll just wait until you’re done with her, then. I’m a patient man,” Baelish said with an infuriating smirk, “perhaps you’ll leave some parts of her unexplored for me?”

Stannis had to clench his jaw even more tightly to prevent himself from gaping at Baelish. How was it possible to be that nauseating? How could he talk about Sansa as some _thing_ Stannis could get ‘done with’? And was he implying what Stannis thought he was implying? His stomach lurched a little at the idea and he quickly pushed it away, really not wanting to go there. Odious, horrible man.

“I will always be willing to protect her from the likes of you,” Stannis hissed furiously, recovering from his shock, “so you will be waiting for a very long time.”

Baelish raised an eyebrow at that, amusement glittering in his eyes.

Dessert was announced, and Stannis used to opportunity to storm off. He had nothing more to say to Baelish, and he did not want to spend any more time looking at his foul face.

Once he found Sansa he had to hold himself back from pulling her into a protective embrace. He desperately wanted to spirit her away to a place where he could keep her safe and unmolested; wrap her in cotton wool and make sure no one ever got close enough to hurt her.

 _I’m nothing like Baelish!_ he roared inside his head, trying to convince his guilty conscience. Just because he had liked it when Sansa had said… certain things it didn’t mean Stannis was a horrible person like Baelish. It was _different._ It had to be different.

Ned probably wouldn’t think it was different.

“Are you okay?” she asked, taking his arm the same way she had been doing so often this evening and walking him over to a nearby sofa. He sat on one end of the comfortable leather seat and she surprised him by perching herself on the armrest instead of sitting properly beside him. She draped her arm over his shoulders and angled her knees towards him. It was almost as if she were sitting in his lap, and he looked around nervously, hoping her father wasn’t around to see.

“I’m fine. Just had a few words with Mr. Baelish,” he muttered, feeling himself redden slightly when she started to idly stroke his arm.

“Oh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me he touched you?” Stannis whispered, looking around again to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation. Most of the guests seemed more interested in making their way over to the desserts on offer, however, and weren’t really paying them any attention.

“He told you about that?” Sansa sounded surprised. Stannis nodded, hoping she would answer his question.

“I… I didn’t want to upset you,” she said awkwardly, worrying at her bottom lip.

“What about you? Were you upset?” Stannis asked her quietly.

“A little. Mostly I was just really uncomfortable with it. He’s married to my _aunt._ ”

“If you’re upset or uncomfortable about something I want you to feel like you can tell me about it,” he said awkwardly, feeling unsure about how to put his thoughts on the matter into words. She needed to know that in situations like this it did not matter how _he_ might feel. She needed to be able to talk to someone and deal with _her_ feelings. He wanted to be that someone that she would trust to talk things over with.

“I would have told you eventually, I think,” Sansa said, leaning towards him until she was only sitting on the armrest in the most precarious way. A gust of wind would be enough to send her into his lap.

“That’s good,” he murmured, her closeness and her scent were soothing and he was sorely tempted to just pull her on top of him and start kissing her.

“What did you say to Mr. Baelish?” she asked curiously.

“I asked him to leave you alone, and I may have threatened him a little to make sure he listened,” Stannis told her, not feeling even a little bit ashamed of himself. After the things Baelish had said, the man deserved much worse than threats.

“Stannis!” she said in a mock scandalised tone of voice. Her eyes were sparkling with glee, however.

“Promise me that you’ll never go anywhere alone with that man,” Stannis said seriously, looking Sansa straight in the eyes.

“I already promised myself I wouldn’t do that so it’s no trouble to promise you, too,” Sansa said straight away, the glee in her eyes making way for a more solemn look.

Stannis nodded, accepting her promise.

“Well, aren’t you two cosy?” Renly said, plopping himself down next to Stannis with a plate of sugary dessert treats.

“Go away,” Stannis said in the exasperated tone of older siblings everywhere.

“You go,” Renly retorted, making a face at him.

“We were here first,” Sansa said pertly, her tone amused.

“I don’t care,” Renly said, sending her a rakish grin.

“Let’s just go,” Stannis interrupted, glaring at his brother and waiting for Sansa to un-drape herself from his shoulders so that he could stand up.

Sansa insisted on getting some dessert, and he went along with her because he didn’t really want to let her out of his sight after his conversation with Baelish. This ended with him being forced to sample some lemon cakes (“they’re my favourite!”) and getting a slight sugar rush.

They checked on Shireen again, and found out that his daughter loved the lemon cakes, too. (“Sansa can teach you to make them, Dad! She is your girlfriend now, so you have to listen to her!”) He was outnumbered, so he was forced to agree that Sansa would come over at some point before Shireen returned to her mother to teach them how to make lemon cakes.

Stannis wondered if he was a terrible person for thinking of it as a possible opportunity for more sex. The quick release he had stolen in Sansa’s bedroom hadn’t been so much a way to ease the tension and help him survive the rest of the holidays as much as it had been a cruel reminder of what he was missing.

It was strange how he had managed to go _years_ without sex before Sansa, but now five days seemed like an eternity to go without the comfort of her body. Especially since those five days had been filled with countless pictures and dirty texts from her, even one where she had been soaking wet from a shower and completely _naked._ Her nipples had been obscured by some steam on the mirror, but _Gods…_ He hadn’t even been able to spend that much quality time with his hand to relieve his ‘tension’ because Shireen was staying with him. Still, that was no excuse for his behaviour in Sansa’s _childhood bedroom_. He was certain he had actually been suffering from a temporary bout of insanity, brought on by a little gold dress and very long, very _bare_ legs in sexy black heels. Seven hells, but she was _irresistible._

He really should not have allowed himself to be alone with her in a lockable room.

What would they have done if someone had tried the door? They would have been forced to open it and explain why they had locked themselves in. It would have been a nightmare! The thought turned his blood to ice in his veins, and he had to breathe very deeply to calm himself down. He also had to make sure he did not inhale the air too close to Sansa, as she still smelled faintly like sex, and it made him want to drag her back to her room.

Back at the party Stannis and Sansa ended up having an incredibly awkward conversation with her parents. Ned glowered at him for the most part, and he did his best not to look utterly shamefaced and guilty while Sansa and Catelyn chatted about what a success the food had been, and what a lovely time everyone seemed to be having. Stannis did not dare put his arm around Sansa’s waist or even place his hand at the small of her back while they spoke to her parents, and he immediately missed touching her even as his mind rang with echoes of Ned’s last words to him about Sansa. 

Eventually he would have to actually deal with the guilt he had been pushing aside and talk to Sansa about her feelings regarding their relationship -- make sure she wasn’t just going along with everything he wanted because of the power imbalance between them. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it yet as he was convinced that having that sort of conversation would be the beginning of the end for them. 

He wasn’t ready to lose Sansa.

When her parents wandered off Sansa noticed the woebegone look that had manifested itself on his face due to his thoughts and the angry glares he had received from Ned.

“I know he’s being hard on you, but I’m sure he’ll come around,” she said comfortingly, touching his upper arm lightly and giving him an encouraging look. Stannis tried to wipe the misery from his countenance and nodded at her curtly. He didn’t really think Ned would ever come around. Stannis could easily place himself in Ned’s shoes, and he was sure that Ned saw him as a threat and a defiler. Not to be trusted. But he couldn’t think about these things now. He’d just have to think about them tomorrow.

Sansa wanted to talk to her brother and cousin next, and Stannis almost ground his teeth together in frustration because he did not really think he should touch her in front of her older brother, either. The boy’s comedic posturing earlier on had not intimidated him in the slightest - he doubted it had been meant to - but he still did not think he ought to paw at Sansa while Robb was near. The boy might report it back to his father.

“Still alive?” Robb asked him when he and Sansa approached.

“Shouldn’t I be?” Stannis asked, furrowing his brow slightly.

“Don’t listen to Robb, he’s being an idiot,” Sansa said in a low voice with an eyeroll. In a slightly louder tone of voice, looking at her brother, she said, “you’re being an idiot, Robb.”

“Robb thought Sansa’s dress would kill you,” Jon helpfully informed him.

He felt his face warm slightly as he thought about how he probably would be dead if Ned knew what had gone through his mind when he had first seen Sansa in that dress. Not to mention what would have happened if Ned had caught him in Sansa’s bedroom with her! It would have looked particularly bad if he’d seen them while he had been holding his hand over her mouth. Stannis’ heartbeat suddenly felt very loud, there was a buzzing his his ears, and he could feel all the blood drain from his face as he really _thought_ about the possibility of Ned catching them like that. He really did not want to imagine what Ned would have done to him if he’d seen. Death would only have been one part of it, he was sure. 

It was a very good thing the door had been lockable, but Stannis would _never_ be taking such a risk again. What in the seven hells had he been _thinking?_

“Don’t tell him that!” Sansa said, swatting her cousin’s arm.

“Well, technically I thought Dad would kill Stannis for staring too much, but... “ Robb trailed off, shrugging.

“Shut up,” Sansa said in a cheerful, murderous sort of way.

“Anyway, we should do dinner sometime when we’re all in the city. We’ve been seeing you at parties since we were kids, but I feel like I hardly know you,” Robb said, directing his words at Stannis, “I can introduce you both to Jeyne, make a double date of it. Or a triple date if Jon can convince Ygritte to leave their cave...”

Stannis, still trying to recover from the terrifying thought of Ned catching him in a very precarious position with Sansa, hoped his intense dislike for Robb’s idea wasn’t showing too plainly on his face.

“I’m not sure we’re at the triple dating stage of our relationship yet,” Sansa said a little hesitantly, giving him a doubtful look. His dislike for the idea was probably showing, then. He tried to straighten his face out, but had trouble dislodging his scowl.

“Oh? What stage _are_ you at, then?” Robb said curiously.

Sansa blushed a very deep, very attractive pink that made Stannis want to carry her off to a private location far, far away from Ned Stark.

“Um, I - I don’t know…” she stammered, giving Stannis a wide-eyed look.

“The stage where we’d rather be left alone,” he said stiffly, shooting Robb a quelling glare.

“I see! Just coming right out and saying it!" Robb gave him a wide, amused grin and winked. Stannis felt himself flush as he realised that Robb had interpreted his statement to mean that Stannis wanted to be alone with Sansa to have copious amounts of sex. It wasn’t _untrue_ , but it wasn’t exactly what Stannis had meant, either.

"Robb!" Sansa exclaimed, a slight whine in her tone, "stop being a pain."

“Sorry, I’ll behave. I promise,” Robb said, still grinning and neither sounding nor looking apologetic, “I’m sure Stannis didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Jon snorted, but quickly changed his sceptical expression into a blank, mildly amused one when Sansa glared at him.

“Let’s go, I’m not speaking to them anymore,” Sansa said, turning up her nose and grabbing his arm.

“Don’t be like that!” Robb said with a laugh, “we’re just joking around.”

“I’m not laughing,” Sansa said snootily.

Stannis might have rolled his eyes at their juvenile conversation if he didn’t regularly have similar conversations with _his_ brothers. At least Sansa, Robb and Jon had the excuse of their youth for acting this way.

Sansa started walking away from Robb even though he continued to insist he had just been joking, and Stannis had no choice but to follow along with her as she held his arm hostage. Not that he minded.

The rest of the party was spent grimacing his way through smalltalk with various people who wanted to comment on how _interesting_ it was that they were in a relationship, and ask pointed questions about how old Sansa was and give him disapproving looks. Sansa managed to navigate these conversations very gracefully, her natural charm and good manners carrying them through. Nearly everyone they spoke to ended up focusing on how mature and poised Sansa was, how it was hardly surprising that he had fallen for such an angel, and how the age difference barely mattered, really. Wasn’t it all just so _romantic?_

If Stannis hadn’t stood there and watched Sansa somehow manage to turn every negative, judging gaze into a sappy, admiring one, he wouldn’t have believed it to be possible. He figured out early on that it was best for him to simply keep quiet and try not to grimace too obviously. Looking at Sansa helped as his grimace tended to melt away automatically when he looked at her, but he couldn’t just stare at her the entire time; that would be rude.

As much as it pained him to leave Sansa’s side, he had to take Shireen home at a decent hour to get her to bed. Before he went downstairs to fetch his daughter, he managed to find a secluded, dark corner where he stole a lingering kiss - after making sure none of Sansa’s family members were around to see - and promised to arrange that lemon cake lesson soon. Shireen would not let him forget about it, and Stannis was already desperate for another chance to spend time with Sansa during the holidays.

After Shireen had been found and convinced to leave Bran and his books behind, Stannis and Shireen spoke to Ned and Catelyn and thanked them for a lovely evening and Sansa helped them find their coats and took them to the front door.

“I almost forgot!” Sansa exclaimed when they had nearly finished saying their goodbyes, “I have presents for you both! Wait just a moment, please,” Sansa went upstairs as quickly as her heels could carry her, and was back surprisingly quickly.

Stannis was relieved that he had thought to bring the small, wrapped gift he had purchased for Sansa, and fished it out from the inside of his coat pocket. He hadn’t been sure they would be exchanging gifts as they hadn’t discussed it, but he had got her something just in case she surprised him with a gift. Sansa did like giving him surprises...

“Dad, I didn’t get her anything!” Shireen whispered worriedly, tugging on his sleeve.

“This is from us both,” he reassured her, indicating the small package in his hand.

Shireen smiled in relief. “I’m still going to make her a drawing to give her when she comes over to help us make lemon cakes,” she said with a determined nod.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Stannis said seriously.

Upon Sansa’s return she bent down, balancing herself precariously on her heels, and presented Shireen with a beautifully wrapped parcel that Stannis immediately recognised as a book. Sansa looked a little flushed from her rushed trip up and down the stairs, but her eyes were bright and full of excitement.

“Thank you!” Shireen exclaimed genuinely, “Dad has a present for you, too! It’s from both of us, but I’m also going to make you a drawing. I’ll give it to you when you visit!”

“That sounds wonderful,” Sansa said with a wide smile, “I can’t wait!”

Stannis helped her get up, garnering a grateful smile and an adoring look that made him want to find another dark corner and kiss her again. He was completely addicted to the way she looked at him, there was no use denying it.

“Here,” he said awkwardly, thrusting his hand out and presenting her with the small parcel.

“Oh! You shouldn’t have…” Sansa said demurely, though she was obviously thrilled he had got her something. She accepted the gift and handed him another beautifully wrapped parcel in return.

“I wanted to,” he said a bit hoarsely, meeting her eyes and trying to take a mental photograph of the way she was still looking at him, “and thank you,” he added, nodding at the pretty gift she had given him.

“I hope you like it,” she said, her cheeks pinkening becomingly.

“I will,” he said as if he were stating an unshakable fact, knowing that he would treasure whatever it was that she had picked for him, even if it turned out to be another set of lurid pink cufflinks in the shape of dice.

“I know I’ll like this, too,” she said sweetly, looking down at the gift in her hand.

He couldn’t resist at least kissing her on the cheek before ushering Shireen out the door, but Sansa turned her face at the last second and he landed on her lips instead. It was a short, chaste kiss, but a kiss on the lips nonetheless -- in front of his daughter! He felt himself flush with embarrassment, but he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed with Sansa. Not when she was still looking at him like - how had Robert put it? - like he hung the moon?

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, a tone of longing sneaking into his voice. 

It would be torture to wait another few days before seeing her again.

The following morning Stannis was too distracted with Shireen and her enthusiasm for her gifts to remember to open Sansa’s gift straight away, but when Shireen gasped with joy at finding that Sansa had given her a gorgeous, illustrated children’s version of the Dance of the Dragons he remembered that he had something from Sansa, too.

He saved it for last, knowing that it was likely to be better than anything Renly or Robert came up with. It wouldn’t be likely to be quite is wonderful as the frame Shireen had decorated herself, but nothing could compare to the gifts Shireen gave him. When he had noticed that the frame was decorated with seashells and pretty stones that Shireen must have picked on their last holiday together he had felt as if his chest was suddenly too small to contain his heart, and he had felt less awkward about hugging his daughter than he usually did. The picture in the frame had been taken on the same holiday, depicting the two of them on his boat, and Stannis knew he would be keeping this frame on his desk at work for the foreseeable future.

Sansa’s gift was indeed much better than the stupid thing Renly had given him. (He realised that the old, illustrated version of the Kama Sutra was quite valuable, and he thought it was a ridiculous expenditure for a joke.) She had given him a black leather wallet, tastefully embossed with his initials in a curved, golden script. Inside the wallet he spotted what he thought was a business card at first, but when he pulled it out, it turned out to be a laminated card with nothing on it except a very clear, very perfect impression of Sansa’s lips in red lipstick. A more thorough search revealed a neatly folded note, written on creamy, expensive-looking stationery that was faintly scented with Sansa’s perfume.

_Stannis -_  
_I wanted to give you a way to carry my kiss with you when you go about your day. I hope you like it!_  
_Yours, Sansa_

It was sugary sweet, but Stannis couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He had never been one for cute, romantic gestures, but it felt surprisingly nice to be on the receiving end of one. He hoped Sansa was as pleased with what the jeweller had insisted would be just the thing. He usually detested having to deal with anything connected to the Lannisters, but their jewellery stores were the best in town, so he had reluctantly gone to the one nearest his office.

“Trust me, your girlfriend will love it. She’ll be on her knees before you even manage to put it on her,” the grinning jeweller had said with a wink, earning himself a fierce scowl and a glare, but Stannis had bought it nonetheless.

He told himself it was because the gem had reminded him of Sansa’s eyes. No other reason. Definitely not because of what the jeweller had said.

No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Stannis is a closet Gone With the Wind fan in this fic. Yep yep. (If you didn't catch the reference, you can just ignore this.)
> 
> Those who can guess who was working at the jewellery store when Stannis walked in will get bragging rights and Internet high-fives all the way from Iceland.


	13. Lemon cakes

Sansa stood and admired herself in the full-length mirror in her room. She was just about ready to leave to visit Stannis and Shireen, but she couldn’t stop looking at the way her new necklace sparkled around her neck. It was the most gorgeous piece of jewellery she had ever owned, and she had a feeling she would be wearing it constantly, even if it was a lot nicer than what she might usually wear on a daily basis.

The pendant caught the midday light perfectly as she turned this way and that, mesmerised by the teardrop-shaped sapphire and the white gold chain. Sansa wished she had enough time to stay and stare at it for at least another few minutes, but she had promised to be at Stannis’ apartment by two o’clock so she really needed to get going.

As much as she was looking forward to spending some time with sweet little Shireen and teaching her to make lemon cakes, Sansa almost wished the girl was back with her mother already. She was full of ideas about how to properly thank Stannis for the gorgeous pendant, and none of them were really very child-friendly.

The drive to King’s Landing felt incredibly long as Sansa couldn’t stop picturing the things she wanted to do with Stannis. She was incredibly hot and bothered when she was only halfway there, and squirming in her seat by the time she parked in Stannis’ guest spot. Sansa was forced to spend a few minutes in the parked car, just trying to calm herself down, before she walked to the lift.

All of her effort came to naught when the first thing Stannis did after he and Shireen had greeted her at the door was to ask Shireen to go get everything ready in the kitchen while he helped Sansa with her coat. ‘Helping her with her coat’ seemed to be code for getting it off as quickly as possible, pushing her against the front door and kissing her absolutely senseless. The way he was thrusting his tongue into her mouth was positively _lewd_ and his hands seemed to be touching her everywhere at once. In less than a minute he had turned her all the way back on, and left her a woozy, panting weak-kneed _mess._

Almost as abruptly as he had started, he stopped. “We should go to the kitchen,” he said. Unfairly, he barely seemed out of breath, and infuriatingly, he did not seem to have a tell-tale bulge at the front of his trousers, either! Sansa wanted to stomp her foot down in a fit of pique; this was not how it was supposed to be between them!

“Wait,” she blurted, stopping him in his tracks. He turned back to look at her with a mildly inquisitive expression.

“Thank you… for the pendant,” she said, trying to make her voice grateful and suggestive at the same time, giving him the most heated look in her repertoire.

He smirked for a moment so brief that she probably wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t had all of her attention trained on him. “It matches your eyes,” he said, almost as if he were confirming it to himself rather than complimenting her.

“It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever owned,” she told him a little breathlessly, fluttering her eyelashes and sauntering up to him, ostensibly to let him have a closer look at the necklace as it rested a little below the dip between her collar bones, pointing towards her pushed up cleavage. She had worn a dark grey V-neck that would allow the necklace to shine, and the bra that gave her handfuls the biggest lift.

“That’s appropriate,” Stannis said vaguely, another smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Sansa furrowed her brow briefly, trying to work out what he could mean. The way he was looking at her made her wonder if he meant that it was appropriate because _she_ was the most gorgeous thing that _he_ had ever owned, and the idea of him hinting at his ownership in such a way made her already damp underwear start to become uncomfortably wet. The other way she could think to interpret his statement was that he thought she was so gorgeous that it was appropriate for her to have gorgeous things, and that made her heart swell to twice its usual size. She gave him a dazed smile, not really knowing how to respond to him.

Thankfully, he kept talking. “I’m glad you like it. I’m already using the wallet you gave me. It’s just the right size to fit all of my cards, thank you,” he said in a normal tone of voice, still acting completely unaffected and not aroused in the least. It was driving her crazy!

“Did you like the kiss?” she asked coyly, pressing their chests together and wrapping her arms around his neck, idly playing with the hair on the back of his head.

He huffed out an amused breath. “I will keep it with me as you asked. Hopefully I won’t ever try to use it to pay for anything by mistake.”

Sansa pouted playfully. “You don’t think my kiss is worth anything, then?”

“I didn’t say that. I simply wouldn’t want to accidentally waste it on tea and a sandwich,” he said wryly, kissing her once and then pulling away from her.

He was off to the kitchen before she could delay him again, and she let out a little frustrated moan before following him.

“I made you this drawing!” Shireen said excitedly as soon as Sansa entered the kitchen, brandishing a piece of paper and smiling nervously. Sansa was forced to switch mental gears rather quickly, managing to go from sexually charged flirt to patient caregiver in a lot less time than she would have expected it would take. She wondered if Shireen being nearby was the reason why Stannis wasn’t responding to her as he usually did. Was he perhaps in parent ‘mode’ and unable to switch gears completely when Shireen was so near?

“Thank you,” Sansa said warmly, accepting the drawing and examining it curiously. It depicted Sansa, Stannis and Shireen, a huge lemon cake and a rainbow. It was completely adorable! Shireen had drawn Stannis with a pronounced frown, given Sansa incredibly long eyelashes and an impressive mane of bright red hair, and given the little rendering of herself a wide, happy grin. “I will treasure this,” Sansa said truthfully, giving the little girl a sincere smile.

Shireen was very excited to start baking and the afternoon positively flew by. Sansa enjoyed being the boss of everyone, as neither Stannis nor Shireen had very much experience with baking, though Stannis turned out to have a knack for measuring things out. With Stannis as chief of measurements, Shireen was free to mix ingredients with Sansa’s help. Shireen also insisted she wanted to squeeze the lemons, though she wasn’t strong enough to do it very effectively. They ended up letting Shireen squeeze as much as her noodle arms could wring from the fruit, and then Stannis would take over and get every last drop out in about twenty seconds.

Two hours after Sansa arrived, they were frosting a pile of deliciously lemon-scented cupcakes, and Sansa was pretending not to notice as Shireen snuck tastes of the frosting while Stannis was busy loading the dishwasher.

When there was knock at the door, Sansa looked at Stannis in surprise. _Who could it be?_

“I invited Davos and Devan over to taste the result of our baking lesson, I hope that’s okay?” Stannis said casually, placing the last of the measuring cups in the machine.

“Uncle Davos!” Shireen squealed, running out of the kitchen to open the door.

“What would you have done if we had messed up and the cupcakes had been inedible?” Sansa asked curiously, giving Stannis a lopsided smile. She had just finished piping frosting onto the last cupcake.

“Gone to the bakery, I suppose,” he said with a shrug.

“Mm,” Sansa hummed, scraping some of the leftover frosting from the bowl with a spoon and licking it off. Stannis seemed very interested in what she was doing, giving her all sorts of ideas. She had to be very strict with herself so that she wouldn’t give him a wicked smile.

“Smells like heaven in here!” Davos exclaimed as he entered the kitchen on the heels of Shireen and Devan. Both kids ran to the cupcakes and pilfered one each, biting into them with the messy relish only children were ever able to manage. Stannis looked like he wanted to scold them for not waiting and asking permission first, but Sansa gave him a pleading look to leave them be. In her mind the holidays meant that special allowances could be made, and that rules did not have to be followed quite so well.

“Nice to see you again, Davos,” Sansa said with a smile, “go ahead, have a taste,” she added, indicating the cupcakes with a wave of her hand.

“They any good?” Davos jokingly asked the two kids who were quite obviously in raptures over the baked treats. Once they had nodded furiously at him, mouths too full to speak, he grinned and snagged himself a cupcake from the plate. He bit into it and gave Sansa the thumbs up.

Davos was soon involved in a discussion with Shireen about how she had helped bake the cupcakes, and how she was willing to come over and teach him how to do it too, if he wanted.

Sansa used the opportunity to lick more frosting off her spoon, catching Stannis’ eye and sucking the bowl of the spoon into her mouth ostentatiously. Stannis narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a look that said: ‘stop that at once, or else.’ She pulled the spoon out of her mouth and scraped some more leftover frosting from the bowl, licking again, maintaining eye contact again. He was starting to look quite flustered, and it was making her feel much better about the state he had put her in when she had first arrived.

“You know, I was thinking of taking Devan to the ice rink after our stop here. Would it be okay if I invited Shireen along?” Davos was looking between Sansa and Stannis with an incredibly amused expression on his face, almost as if he were having trouble containing laughter.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Stannis said brusquely, glaring at his friend and going rather red. Sansa felt her own face warming a little, too. She hadn’t meant for Davos to notice her flirting, and she felt a little awkward about him having seen. He had obviously interpreted the heated looks passing between her and Stannis in a way that compelled him to offer to get Shireen out of the ‘line of fire’. Her awkwardness was tempered by the wild urge to kiss Davos for giving her an opportunity to be alone with Stannis for a while.

“The ice rink! Can I really go?” Shireen was delighted, but clearly in awe of her good fortune.

Sansa did her best to keep the flirting to a minimum while she helped Stannis finish clearing up the kitchen, but couldn’t really contain the ecstatic moans that needed to escape when she bit into one of the cupcakes. It was still slightly warm from the oven, the fresh buttery frosting was fluffy and perfect, and the sharp taste of lemon balanced out the sugary sweetness of the rest of the treat in a way that made Sansa blissfully happy.

“You really like these things, huh?” Davos said, raising an eyebrow.

Stannis didn’t say anything. He was clenching his jaw very tightly shut, and looking at her like he wanted to be enjoying _her_ the way she was enjoying her cupcake.

“They’re my favourite,” she said, blushing and feeling a little silly and embarrassed.

“Understandably,” Davos said with a smile, “might I be allowed to take a couple home? I’m sure Marya would love one.”

When Davos left with the two children in tow, he also carefully carried a tupperware container of six whole cupcakes, making sure not to tip it over so that the frosting wouldn’t get all smudged.

As soon as the front door closed behind Davos and the kids, leaving Sansa alone with Stannis, she decided to get her own back for what he had done to her the last time they had been standing the foyer. She pushed his back to the door, pressing her chest against his and started sucking on a spot on his neck that she knew to be particularly sensitive. Her hands traveled down his sides, and she moved herself out of the way to a small extent, allowing one hand to slip between them so she could cup his growing erection through his trousers. Stannis groaned at that, his up-until-then idle hands going to her back and stroking their way down, until suddenly he had his hands on her rear, squeezing and pulling her towards him. She resisted so that her hand wouldn’t get squished between them, and started to stroke him teasingly. He moved his head until he managed to capture her lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue aggressive and _everywhere._

Sansa broke the kiss so she could breathe, took half a step back and sank to her knees. It had been too long since she had tasted him, and she wanted to hear the sounds he only ever made when she had his cock in her mouth. Stannis muttered something under his breath as she made quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his fly, and she wasn’t sure, but she thought it sounded like: “fucking hells, he was right.”

As it didn’t make much sense she ignored it in favour of pulling his trousers and his underwear down to his knees, releasing his erection and grasping the shaft at its base and sucking the head into her mouth as soon as it was free. She sucked enthusiastically, moving her hand at a fast pace because she wanted to make him come, right then and there, against his front door in the foyer of his apartment with his trousers halfway to his ankles. She wanted it so much that she even took his sac into her mouth for a bit, sucking gently on it and massaging it with her tongue. She knew he really liked it when she did that, but it wasn’t her favourite thing to do, so she only did it very rarely.

“Oh, _Gods,_ Sansa…” he moaned, quickly tugging the hair tie she had used to keep her hair out of the cupcake batter and burying his hands in her long tresses, gently stroking the back of her head.

She went back to his cock after a little while of teasing his sac, trying to take it in more deeply than she usually did, almost gagging herself on it as she held him tightly at the base. She had to move slowly so she wouldn’t have an unattractive coughing fit, but Stannis was already making those desperate, whining noises she loved to force out of him, so she knew she was on the right track.

When he sounded just about insane with need, she went back to sucking on the very tip, moving her hand all the way from the base to her mouth, enjoying - as she always did - the unique sensation of moving his silky skin back and forth over the hardness beneath.

“Sansa, ah, _Sansa!_ ” he gasped out, almost as if he were trying to warn her. It only made her speed up and suck harder, looking up at him as often as she could, causing him to become completely incoherent as he gazed back down at her. His panting gasps and the look in his heavy-lidded eyes were making her incredibly aroused, and she hoped he would be ‘up’ for more soon after she made him come his brains out.

She felt his hand grab her hair a little more firmly, and she brought her free hand to his sac to feel the strange way it tightened up right before his release. She had barely touched it when Stannis’ incoherent gasps became louder and more desperate, and the mild taste of his salty pre-come suddenly changed into the more full-bodied taste of his seed streaming into her mouth, warm and a little bitter on her tongue. She tried to swallow, but there was so much more of it than usually, and she ended up spilling a lot, letting it run down her chin instead. She hurried to catch the spillover with her hand, not wanting to acquire any embarrassing stains on her pretty top, and looked up at Stannis to see the effect she had wrought.

He looked flushed - as he so often did after he came - and his eyes were completely glazed over with pleasure. The usual tension was gone from his shoulders, and he was slumped against the door in a way that made Sansa think he might just want to let himself slide down to the floor. He groaned a little brokenly as he watched her lick his come off her hand, and then continue licking his cock, making sure she cleaned him off completely.

***

Stannis could not believe Sansa had just done what she had done in the damn foyer. She had probably had his cock in her mouth before Davos had made it all the way to the lift. It was completely _indecent,_ and lewd, and salacious, and dirty, and… he was definitely buying all of her gifts from the same jeweller from now on.

It was strange how Sansa made him feel when she went down on him. Aside from all the mind-blowing physical sensations, it was a very peculiar mixture of power and weakness. Having her on her knees before him, pleasuring him as he wrapped her long red hair around his fingers made him feel like a _god,_ but at the same time she could practically undo him with a well timed glance up at him. She made him needy and desperate when she sucked him, made him whine for more like an inexperienced _boy,_ and gasp out her name like a little prayer.

“You are an impossible temptress,” he rasped as he watched her clean his cock with quick little darts of her pink tongue.

“I missed this,” she said, sitting back on her heels and tilting her head back to look up at him.

“I did too,” he had to admit, even though it was slightly embarrassing to be standing with his trousers pulled down in his foyer. He wanted to move them to the bedroom as it was both a more comfortable environment for this sort of thing, and also because it just felt more natural to be undressed in there.

Feeling only a little absurd, Stannis pulled up his trousers and helped Sansa to her feet.

“Bed?” she suggested hopefully, speaking as if she had read his mind. He nodded and she took off at almost a run, trailing hastily pulled off clothing in her wake. He followed, unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head slightly, and wondering how this had become his life.

Sansa was down to her underwear when he caught up with her, already turning down the bed and smiling brightly. “You know, I almost kissed Davos when he suggested he take Shireen to the ice rink,” she said conversationally, walking over to him to help him discard his clothes.

“Don’t tell me that, I don’t want to think about you kissing Davos,” Stannis said with a grimace, though he had been similarly grateful to his friend for his offer.

“You know what I mean,” Sansa giggled.

Once they had rid themselves of their bothersome clothes and ensconced themselves in his bed Stannis felt a wonderful feeling of peace -- as if things were as they should be, and no concerns or worries could possibly bother him. He had Sansa within his grasp, naked and smiling, willing to let him stroke her and pet her just as he pleased, eager for his touch even. It was intoxicating and addictive, and he was suddenly more tempted than ever to simply shackle her to his bed and make sure she could never leave.

Sansa purred as he moved his hands over her, stroking her wherever he could reach, scratching lightly at her back and using his stubble to tickle her neck. After a while he ended up paying particular attention to her breasts because touching her nipples made her squeal and writhe against him in a very gratifying way.

“Mmm, Stannis, wait, wait…” she moaned, a little out of breath, but sounding fairly happy despite her pleas for him to wait. He reluctantly released the pink tips of her breasts, but didn’t take his eyes off them.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you some things,” Sansa said shyly.

Stannis wondered why she might be curious about, and dragged his eyes from her breasts to her face, trying to give her words his full attention.

“I’m not trying to force anything, but I just wondered… what is this - what we have - to you? What am _I_ to you?” Sansa asked, meeting his eyes bravely but nervously worrying at her bottom lip at the same time.

Stannis had known this conversation was coming, but he had been happy enough to postpone it indefinitely. He’d had no idea how to answer those questions because he had been avoiding any in-depth analysis of his feelings on the matter.

“You are my queen,” he murmured into her ear, not really caring that he had just uttered the cheesiest thing he had ever said in his life. But if it meant that Sansa would stay with him, he would gladly start speaking exclusively in Mozzarella.

Sansa looked pleased and emboldened by his words, no longer chewing on her lip, but smiling instead. “Do you like having me as your queen?”

“Very much.”

“And you want to continue… having me?”

Stannis was amazed at Sansa’s ability to turn just about anything into a double entendre, and he let himself smile as much as he ever did, nodding at her and kissing her softly.

“That’s good,” she whispered when he released her lips, “because I think I’m in love with you.”

Stannis stopped breathing for a few beats, staring at Sansa in disbelief and wondering if he had just hallucinated.

“Please don’t be mad,” she said softly, gazing at him with her beautiful, blue vulnerable eyes all wide.

He swallowed a few times, trying to get his dry tongue to function. “I’m not mad,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse and strangely faint. Ned’s voice could be heard somewhere at the back of his mind, talking about power imbalances, maturity, judgment and inexperience, but Stannis didn’t listen. He needed to trust that Sansa could understand her own feelings and take responsibility for them. He had to believe that she knew her own mind and her own heart. Especially since she had brought this up on her own and was not responding to anything he had said.

“But you don’t love me?” she asked in a trembling whisper.

Stannis thought it over. She deserved a considered answer, and he would consider the matter even though it meant shining a light on his _feelings._

When he had been at the Stark Christmas party with Sansa he had constantly been struggling with feelings of protectiveness, of jealousy and fierce possessiveness that he hoped had not been _too_ obvious. It had just been impossible not to hold onto Sansa in a way that marked his territory when men like Baelish were prowling around, or when men like Roose Bolton talked about some son who had taken an interest. Stannis had really wanted to glue Sansa to his side and make it as obvious as possible that she was _not available._ She was _his_ and no one else was allowed to touch her.

Stannis knew it was incredibly boorish to think about Sansa as some sort of possession he did not wish to share, and thankfully that wasn’t the whole story of how he felt. He knew that he would respect Sansa’s wishes if she wanted to break things off and find someone else. He’d probably walk into oncoming traffic if that someone else was anything like Petyr Baelish, but he wouldn’t try to force her to stay with him if she wanted to leave. 

What he felt was complicated and he had no idea if it was love. He wasn’t sure if he had enough experience with love to know for sure. He decided to focus on the feeling that he was _sure_ he had; feelings he recognised.

He felt content when he was with Sansa, and uneasy when he knew she was far away and he would not see her soon. He felt protective of her and wanted to keep her safe from the likes of Baelish forever. He lusted after her and was quite possibly addicted to her body, but he enjoyed talking to her, too. She had a sharp mind and an inquisitive nature that he liked. He also enjoyed eating dinner with her and finding out about her day and telling her about his in return; even though he usually detested such mundane conversations.

Shireen liked her. He liked the way he felt when Sansa and Shireen were together, getting along and looking happy with each other’s company. It was peaceful.

Could all of these feelings combined be love? He didn’t know. He just didn’t _know._

Suddenly he remembered an article he had read once. _Is love a choice or a feeling?_ People in long term relationships and people who never managed to stay with a partner for very long were asked that question, and overwhelmingly the people in successful relationships answered that love was a choice, while the less successful people said love was a feeling.

Could it be that simple? Could he just _choose_ to love Sansa? It didn’t sound very romantic, but it appealed to the reasonable side of him. It made _sense._

He had been silent for too long, and Sansa was looking at him with a heartbreak in her eyes.

“I’ve never been in love,” he began hoarsely and hurried to continue when Sansa squeezed her eyes shut as if he had just said something terrible, “but I think I could be,” he said hesitantly, “I care very deeply for you, Sansa.”

Sansa opened her eyes and searched his, looking for the truth in his words. There was hope in her whole expression, but wonderment and surprise, too.

“You don’t have to say anything else,” she said, her voice soft but infinitely happy, “I understand what you mean.”

Stannis wanted to ask what she understood that he was having trouble understanding himself, but she kissed him, distracting him thoroughly. It was as if she were kissing him with her whole body, pressing her full length against him and placing her palm against the middle of his back, trying to push him even closer. They were both lying on their sides, so Stannis only had one free hand to work with, but he buried it in Sansa’s thick hair, running his fingers through the copper tresses and enjoying the satisfying way the soft strands brushed against the sensitive skin between his fingers.

“But are you sure?” he asked, needing to put his worries about how she might be too influenced by him to bed, “are you sure that you’re not just saying what you think I want to hear? Because you don’t have to give me more than you’re comfortable giving. And you know I won’t make you stay if you want to try seeing someone - someone more appropriate.” Asking her these things was harder than Stannis would have believed, and he wasn’t absolutely sure he would have been able to get the words out if Sansa hadn’t just told him that she was in love with him. She had taken away the fear that she might leave him.

“I’m sure,” she said softly, a glowing smile on her lips, “I only want you.”

Stannis closed the short distance between their lips and tried to show her how much her words thrilled him. No one had ever only wanted him. People hardly wanted him as a part of a package deal, much less just him by himself. Hearing her say those words felt dizzyingly euphoric.

When they came up for air she started kissing his neck, her soft curves touching every inch of him. His cock started to twitch back to life, but he didn’t want her to notice quite yet; she had a tendency to be much too giving in bed. If she felt him harden she’d start to fondle him, and then he’d be trapped by the pleasure of it, and unable to return the favour from the foyer. It was difficult to move away from the wonderful things she had been doing with her tongue at his neck, but he wanted to put his own tongue to work, and if he delayed for much longer, she’d definitely feel his cock’s renewed interest in going to warm, wet places.

With a reluctant grunt he managed to push her to her back and lift himself up to hover over her, supporting himself on one elbow and his knees. He kept one hand free to touch her as he kissed his way down her body, enjoying the taste of her skin and her remarkable softness. He always felt a little sacrilegious when he pressed the rough stubble on his face against her silky skin, leaving her red and nearly scratched, but at the same time he liked being able to see where he’d been.

He cupped a breast and brushed his thumb over her nipple to get it to pucker up to the fullest extent. He had found that using very quick light touches, passing over the nipple fast, over and over again, made Sansa moan and wriggle around, arch her back to bring her breast closer to him, and generally behave like a cat in heat. He used this knowledge to tease her now, kissing and nibbling on her other nipple while his thumb teased the first.

Sansa was already trembling by the time he finished playing with her nipples and making the ivory skin of her abdomen all red and irritated due to his stubble. She gasped when he finally made his way to her thighs, pushing them gently apart and kneeling between them so that both his hands would be free. He used his hands to stroke the sensitive insides of her thighs from the knees and upwards until he was _almost_ touching her where she was exposed to his gaze; pink and wet and _perfect._ The scent of her when she was aroused was the headiest scent in existence, and his cock was almost fully hard now that his nose was so close to the source. He desperately wanted to taste her, but he wanted to watch her writhe around for a little longer first. He kept stroking the insides of her thighs, bending down to kiss and lick at the flawless, creamy skin. The supple flesh just about begged him to sink his teeth in, but he resisted the impulse to be quite that aggressive, making do with some light grazing. Sansa was whimpering and squirming in the most delightful way, even lifting herself off the bed a little in order to communicate her impatience. He moved his mouth closer to his goal, using his hands to scratch lightly at her skin with his fingernails, causing her to make a pitiable, drawn out frustrated sound.

Feeling like he had delayed for long enough, he started to lick her right where she needed him to, starting at her deliciously wet opening and dragging his tongue up to her mound, giving her the kind of lazy, light strokes that were designed more to drive her insane than to bring her off. He held her legs apart more gently than he usually did, using his thumbs to stroke and tickle her trembling thighs as he took his time lapping at her.

He had not asked her to, but after they had started seeing each other she had taken up waxing, and though he had not minded the soft red curls, he had to admit that it felt nice to run his tongue over her bare folds. He was glad that she left a bit of hair to cover her mound, however, as he disliked the thought of her with _nothing_ to mark her as a grown woman rather than a little girl. Not that her womanly curves weren’t quite enough to advertise the fact that she was certainly grown up…

“Stannis, please! I need more, _please!_ ” she moaned, pleading in that pretty way of hers.

He increased the pace of his strokes, pressing his flattened tongue more firmly against her heavenly softness, each time lingering for a little longer at the swollen area right at the top, just beneath her mound, wriggling his tongue a little to tease her there.

“Please, I need _you_ , I need you inside of me…” she whimpered, obviously on the verge of her peak.

His cock jumped at her words, eager to give her what she wanted, but Stannis wanted her to be even closer to orgasm before he did as she asked. He wanted her to be so close that she would come as soon as he pushed into her. He had never attempted it before, but something told him it would work if he tried it now.

He sucked gently on her inflamed, swollen flesh, knowing that he had to be careful about it so that she wouldn’t come too soon. He listened to her moans get closer and closer to the pitch she only ever reached when she was climaxing, giving her soothing little licks in between his gentle pulls. As soon as he heard her start to keen, lifting herself off the bed again and arching her back, he pulled away and aligned his body with hers, pushing all the way into her with a gentle, but firm thrust.

“Oh my _Gods!_ Stannis! _Stannis!_ ” she cried out in ecstasy, clinging to his back desperately and obviously experiencing an intense orgasm, the smooth muscles inside of her contracting and caressing his cock in the most _blissful_ welcome he could have hoped for. An involuntary groan escaped him, but he did not really think Sansa heard it as she was busy making rather a lot of noise herself. Every single moan was feeding his ego and adding to the pleasure of being buried in her wonderful, tight, searing hot -

“Stannis, please move, I need you to move, _please,_ ” Sansa begged, disrupting his train of thought.

He kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue and sucking on her plump, lovely bottom lip. As he kissed her he did as she asked, moving in and out of her at an unhurried pace that made him feel rather like his entire body was being dipped in warm honey -- not just his cock. Delicious sensations of pleasure rolled up and down his spine, and he felt a strange tingly sensation in his fingers and his toes. And he wasn’t even having an orgasm! It just felt _good_ to kiss her and fuck her slowly, knowing that she loved _him_ , adored _him_ , and didn’t want anyone else.

Was this what nauseating people meant when they talked about making love?

Sansa wrapped her long legs around him, urging him deeper, pressing him so tightly to her whenever he thrust himself in to the hilt that he almost felt like she wanted to merge their bodies together on some atomic level. As soon as he released her lips she was moaning and sighing with pleasure, seeming to enjoy his slow entrances the most. He was relishing them too, the exquisite sensation of stretching her open was like nothing else, and doing it slowly let him really _feel it_. He rested his forehead against hers even though they were both a little sticky with perspiration, maintaining his slow rhythm and enjoying her sighs of pleasure, the eager pressure of her legs around him, and the soft touch of her hands on his sweat-slicked back.

Eventually the primitive, _physical_ part of his brain took charge, leading his body into the performing the faster, more insistent thrusts that would bring him his release. Sansa answered his increased pace by opening up to him like a flower, spreading her thighs and pulling her knees up to give him more freedom to move. He could hear that she was approaching another climax, and she was urging him to go faster and harder, saying how she loved the feeling of his cock filling her, how she loved _him,_ how she had never felt as good in her life, and how she never, ever wanted him to stop.

Stannis had only been drunk the once, and it had ended _badly._ But before the… badness, there had been a moment of pleasant drunkenness, a ‘buzz’ that had made the world feel less _harsh_ somehow, and almost like a pleasant place. Stannis felt similar now, hearing Sansa’s gratifying words and being inside her was making him feel wonderfully, enjoyably _drunk._

When he felt Sansa’s inner muscles start fluttering around him, he groaned and started to snap his hips forward with complete abandon, knowing that she would love anything he did at this point. He had lifted himself from his elbows to his hands to give himself more leverage when he had first started to quicken his pace, but now he moved to sit up entirely, pulling her legs up and letting her calves rest against his shoulders, chasing his release with a series of relentless thrusts that made Sansa sob with pleasure. The sounds she made went straight to his rapidly tightening sac and the heat of his climax started to spread from it, tendrils of pleasure and warmth shooting towards his spine and sending electric jolts all through his body. 

As this was his second orgasm of the afternoon, he felt like it took less time for him to spend himself, but it felt much more powerful -- probably due to the slow build. He almost saw stars for a few beats as he surged forward, grunting and gasping Sansa’s name in a way that he knew he would be embarrassed to recall later.

Sansa pulled her legs towards her chest again when he stopped moving, encouraging him to come back down to his elbows so that they could kiss. The kiss they shared was languorous and free of any aggression. They simply licked at each other’s lips and tongues while Stannis felt his cock start to soften, still wrapped up snugly deep inside Sansa. Finally the urge to pull out of her grew too strong, and he rolled himself off to lie on his back.

“Wow,” Sansa sighed happily, turning to rest her head on his chest. He put his arm around her automatically, his body moving into the position of holding her close as naturally as breathing.

“Yes,” he murmured in agreement, feeling that it would probably sound incredibly odd if he were to say something like ‘wow’.

“That was… wow,” Sansa repeated, sounding rather dazed. Stannis would have smirked at having put her in that state, but he was feeling exactly the same. “I mean, that was different, right? You felt it, too?”

Stannis started to comb his finger through her hair, even though it was a little damp with sweat and tangled from having rubbed up against the pillow rather vigorously. “Yes, I think I know what you mean,” he whispered hoarsely.

It had been _more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here are some visual aids regarding Sansa's necklace.](http://sarahtheblack.tumblr.com/post/132893356283/the-first-one-is-what-i-had-in-mind-but-the)


	14. An Interruption

Driving back to Winterfell after the amazing afternoon Sansa had spent with Stannis was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. She had absolutely no wish to leave him now that she knew that her feelings were returned and that their relationship was about more than just sex for Stannis. She had suspected that Stannis cared for her on a deeper level for a while, having observed the way his eyes seemed to soften when he looked at her, the way he always made time for her and didn’t seem to mind when she talked about the mundane events in her life -- even though she remembered how he utterly lacked patience for that sort of thing at the office.

Most tellingly, Stannis had braved the visit to her parents, survived a private conversation with her father, and confidently walked about at the Stark Christmas party with her on his arm, not shrinking away from the judgmental looks they received. There were ways to get sex without jumping through all those hoops.

She was already thinking about the text message she planned to send him when she got back to Winterfell, about how she wished he would have tied her to his bed so that she wouldn’t have been able to leave, when she remembered that she needed to pick up some moon tea at the store. She didn’t have any in her room at Winterfell, and the last thing she needed was to fall pregnant because of the unplanned sexual escapades in King’s Landing.

Moon tea in hand, she was crossing the parking lot of the Winter Town convenience store to get back to her car when there was suddenly a white cloth in front of her face, and a strong smell that reminded her of Chemistry class and swimming pools. The last thought in her head before she passed out was, _’at least I got to tell Stannis how I felt…’_

Sansa woke up with absolutely no idea where she was, what time it was, or what had happened to her. It was dark where she was so looking around did not really yield answers to any of her questions. She felt incredibly nauseated, and needed to take several deep breaths to prevent herself from sicking up. 

“Hello?” she called out when she felt reasonably sure that she wouldn’t vomit.

Harsh fluorescent lights came on, flooding the bare, windowless room with white light. There was a large mirror on one wall, but otherwise it was just her, lying on the floor in her pretty grey top, her jeans and her push-up bra. Her outerwear and her shoes were gone. She looked down to ascertain whether her necklace was still around her neck, and felt incredibly relieved when she saw the beautiful gem resting on her chest. Perhaps it was silly to be concerned over a worldly possession in a situation like hers, but she couldn’t help herself -- the necklace had been a gift from Stannis and she cared about it.

She stood up and walked to the mirror, wondering it it was a two-way mirror like in the films. She remembered reading that a two way mirror only worked when one of the rooms was brightly lit, while the other was dark. It was certainly bright enough where she was, she thought.

Suddenly a door she hadn’t noticed opened up, and a vaguely familiar young man came inside. He had dark hair and strange pale eyes. Sansa tried never to think of people as ugly, but somehow ‘ugly’ was the only word that sprang to mind when she saw him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I know it’s terribly rude, won’t you join me for dinner?” the man said politely, as if he hadn’t just kidnapped her. Sansa wasn’t deceived by the polite, soft voice. She looked at his eyes and saw the threat there. She did not want to find out what he would do if she refused him, so she just nodded. 

Sansa was sure she had never been as frightened as she was in this moment, following the familiar young man. Why was this happening to her? _What_ was happening to her?

The man led her to a perfectly comfortable dining room that reminded her a little of the dining room in Winterfell, though it was less grand. A look out the window told her that she was at the so-called Dreadfort. The creepy old house Roose Bolton lived in. Sansa was born and raised in this neighbourhood, and she recognised the scenery, despite the snow. If she was at the Dreadfort, the young man who was helping her sit down at the table had to be Ramsay. She hadn’t really seen him properly in years, but now that she had made the connection it was obvious.

“Thank you, Ramsay,” she said softly as Ramsay pushed her chair nearer to the table.

“Oh, so you know who I am?” Ramsay said with a strange smile, “that’s good. It will make everything easier.” He took a seat himself and started to eat.

Sansa did not feel hungry, but she did not dare to displease Ramsay by not partaking, so she reached for a roll and took her time buttering it, nibbling on it quietly as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Isn’t this nice?” Ramsay said, once he had finished eating, “this is how it will always be between us, you know. We’ll have a lovely dinner, perhaps watch a little television while you rub my feet, and then we will retire for the night…”

Sansa had never heard the words ‘retire for the night’ sound as ominous.

A loud banging noise made Sansa flinch, but she realised almost right away that it had been the noise of a door being slammed. She tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself, but at the same time she couldn’t help but hope that the door slamming meant that someone would be arriving to possibly help her.

Roose Bolton entered the dining room, and it was almost amusing to see the look on his face when he took in the tableau in front of him. Sansa had never seen Mr. Bolton look so annoyed. He tended to keep his face locked into an unreadable mask, an eerie little smile playing on his lips, and sometimes showing very mild versions of emotions, but definitely never irritation on this scale.

“What have you done?” Mr. Bolton asked in an icy, quiet whisper.

“I’ve picked out my future wife!” Ramsay explained easily, “I bet the Starks won’t be too stuck up to merge the companies if I marry one of them,” he went on, looking very pleased with himself.

“I’m dreadfully sorry about this, has he hurt you?” Mr. Bolton was addressing her, ignoring his son for the moment. He spoke very calmly, and the way he said he was sorry sounded more like he was deeply inconvenienced than apologetic.

“No,” Sansa blurted out, feeling completely stunned by her circumstances.

“Ramsay, go to your room,” Mr. Bolton said, his tone brooking no argument. Mr. Bolton’s pale eyes were similar to his son’s, but there was no mad glint. There was _nothing._

Ramsay scowled but stomped off. Sansa wondered what manner of man Mr. Bolton had to be in order to get Ramsay to do as he said without so much as a word. Had she gone from the frying pan into the fire?

“Again, Miss Stark, I do apologise. Ramsay is obviously off his medication again. I’ll take care of it.”

“I hope you do, he clearly needs a lot of help,” Sansa said faintly, still a little too shocked to think properly. The memory of the chloroform and the room with what was probably a two-way mirror helped her find her strength. “Does Ramsay have access to chloroform as a rule?” she asked a little peevishly.

“Of course not,” Mr. Bolton said calmly. He did not offer any further information, however, and his face gave nothing away.

“Why do you have a room in your house with nothing in it except a big mirror?” Sansa did not dare call it a two-way mirror in case she was mistaken. She didn’t want to come off as completely paranoid.

“That room is being renovated. It’s empty because it’s about to be painted,” Mr. Bolton answered mildly, “the mirror simply hasn’t been removed yet.”

“Oh.” Sansa felt a little silly. Of course that was it.

“If you’d be so kind as to wait here a moment, I’ll find your things for you,” Mr. Bolton said after a short, awkward silence.

Mr. Bolton returned within moments, carrying her shoes, purse, and coat. He even had the plastic bag with her moon tea. She blushed when he handed it to her, but he did not seem to care in the least that she had been buying a contraceptive.

“Do you need a lift? I assume you were at the store,” Mr. Bolton asked, nodding at the plastic bag to indicate where he had got the idea that she had been shopping.

Sansa couldn’t imagine being alone in a car with Mr. Bolton, so she assured him she was perfectly capable of walking for twenty minutes, and Mr. Bolton didn’t argue.

“Please make sure Ramsay doesn’t do this again,” Sansa said instead of saying goodbye, not really feeling the urge to utter any pleasantries, “not to me, or to any others.”

“Oh, I will.” Mr. Bolton’s cold voice sent more chills down her spine than the freezing air that hit her face when she walked outside.

Once she was clear of the grounds, she pulled her phone from her purse and called Stannis. She needed to hear his voice after her bizarre, frightening experience.

“Sansa?”

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” she started, her voice shaking a little, “it was so strange! I’m fine, though, so don’t worry… but _Gods,_ I can’t even believe it.” Sansa took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She was babbling, and that was never good.

“What is it? You sound upset, what happened?” Stannis’ voice was deeply concerned, and it was a balm to her frazzled nerves to hear how he cared.

“Ramsay Bolton just _kidnapped_ me, and tried to make me play house with him at the Dreadfort. Thankfully Mr. Bolton came home and put a stop to it before Ramsay made me rub his feet or ‘retire for the evening’ like he wanted,” Sansa said with a shudder.

“WHAT?” Stannis roared, sounding shocked and _furious._

“I know!” Sansa exclaimed, “Mr. Bolton said Ramsay was off his meds.”

“Where are you now?” Stannis asked anxiously.

“I’m walking back to my car. It’s probably still parked by the convenience store in town. Mr. Bolton offered me a lift, but I didn’t really feel like being alone with him. He’s so creepy.”

“Have you called your parents yet?”

“No, you were the first person I thought to call.”

Stannis was quiet on the other end for a little while following her statement. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard his breath catching.

“Oh, uh, yes,” Stannis stammered, clearing his throat before continuing in a more confident tone. “You should call your parents as soon as you hang up on me. Ask them to pick you up. You shouldn’t be wandering around on your own in the cold.”

“Okay, I will,” Sansa agreed, realising that a twenty minute walk in the kind of cold that was biting into her cheeks at the moment did not really sound very pleasant. “I feel so much better just hearing your voice,” she told him, too rattled to really worry about being shy about her feelings.

“I’m relieved you called,” he said hoarsely, “I was starting to worry about you as you said you would text me when you got home and I hadn’t received a message.”

“You were worried?” Sansa’s heart melted all over again for Stannis, loving everything about his concern and his care for her.

“Of course,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Sansa was overcome with the desire to have Stannis wrap his arms around her while she pressed her ear to his chest and listened to his heartbeat. She wanted to be back in his bed, breathing his scent and feeling safe and warm.

“I miss you,” she said without thinking, realising too late that it sounded ridiculous for her to miss him after having just spent the better part of the day with him.

“I miss you, too.” His gravelly answer made her feel less ridiculous, and she smiled even though he wouldn’t be able to see it. 

A puff of warm air from her mouth turned into swirling mist in front of her face, reminding her of how cold she actually was. “I’m going to call my parents now, I’m freezing!” she said, even though she was very reluctant to hang up on Stannis.

“Please let me know when you’re safe at home,” he asked, and Sansa promised him she would. They lingered over their goodbyes a little longer than they usually did, but eventually the cold made Sansa hang up.

She called her father, asking him to come pick her up near the Dreadfort and that she’d explain everything once they were together in person. He seemed confused, but she asked him to hurry because she was cold, and that was enough to put a stop to further questions.

Winterfell was about as far away as the convenience store, but it wasn’t a long drive. Her father was reminding her to buckle up before too long. Knowing that her father would not be patient enough to wait until they were at Winterfell to hear what was going on, she immediately launched into her story.

“... and then Mr. Bolton said Ramsay was off his meds and let me go. I called Stannis, and then I called you."

Her father was just pulling up to the house when she finished talking, which was probably a good thing because he was too busy looking at her to focus on driving. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

“I can’t believe it,” he finally said, parking the car incredibly badly, “Ramsay thought that kidnapping you and making you his ‘wife’ would somehow convince me that I should merge my company with Bolton’s?” Her father sounded horrified, and when she looked at him properly she saw how pale he was.

“Yeah. Like Mr. Bolton said, he was obviously off his meds. I do hope Mr. Bolton gets him some proper help. Maybe he needs to be committed? It’s not safe to have him running around on the loose.”

“I’ll talk to Roose about it,” her father said weakly, still looking deeply disturbed.

“Do we have to tell the others about this? Mum is going to _freak._ ” Sansa did not really want to be coddled by her mother for the rest of the holidays. She wanted to be coddled by _Stannis_.

“I’d prefer to let everyone know, just so that they can be on their guard when it comes to Ramsay, too,” her father said seriously.

“Fine,” Sansa sighed, “but can you help me explain to Mum that I’m okay, and that I don’t need to put under twenty-four hour surveillance?”

“I’ll do my best, but that doesn’t actually sound like a bad idea,” her father said, narrowing his eyes at her from the driver’s seat, “you could do with being watched.”

“If you want to have me watched all the time I’m going to go back to King’s Landing early,” Sansa threatened, narrowing her eyes right back, “and then Stannis could watch me.”

Her father grimaced at the mention of Stannis; he was still not entirely over the fact that Sansa was in a relationship with a man twice her age.

“I’ll do what I can,” he promised with a sigh.

***

As soon as Sansa hung up Stannis was calling Davos. He asked his friend if Shireen could stay the night with him and Marya, as Stannis was planning to go to Winterfell and might not be back in King’s Landing until very late.

“What happened?” Davos asked, sounding concerned.

Stannis gave Davos an abbreviated version of the events that had befallen Sansa, speaking in clipped, quick sentences as he was anxious to get on his way.

“Of course Marya and I will watch Shireen. Go take care of Sansa, I’m sure she needs a bit of comfort after all that.”

Stannis was on the road not ten minutes later.

***

Sansa was wrapped up in a blanket on the most comfortable sofa in the house, her mother hovering nearby with a cup of tea.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, I’m only a little queasy.”

“Would you like some tea? I made chamomile.”

“Sure, thanks Mum,” Sansa said with a small smile. She knew that her mother needed to feel like she was helping, and Sansa could hold a cup of tea if it made her mother feel better.

“I’ll be in the kitchen, just shout if you need anything,” her mother said with concern seeping out of every pore.

Sansa huddled down, enjoying the warmth of the blanket and the cup in her hands. She was still rather shaken and baffled by what had happened, but speaking to Stannis and then being comforted by her parents had gone a long way towards making her feel less fragile.

She didn’t end up drinking much of her tea, but the few sips she managed were soothing and warmed her from the inside out. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

“Sansa?” a familiar hoarse voice was saying, a gentle hand touching her shoulder.

Sansa opened one eye a fraction, feeling very groggy and confused. As soon as she saw that it was Stannis who had his hand on her shoulder, her grogginess melted away and she opened both eyes wide.

“Stannis!” she exclaimed in surprise, too stunned to say anything more.

“I came as soon as I could. How are you?” he asked seriously, sitting down next to her. She wasted no time getting one of his arms around her and pressing herself as close as she humanly could. He was warm and firm to the touch, and she loved how he tightened his arm around her protectively.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken… but how can you be here? What about Shireen?”

Stannis told her that Shireen was in good hands with Davos and Marya, and started stroking her hair soothingly. Sansa felt as if his presence were draining all the leftover worry and fear from her system, and she melted against him, no tension in any of her muscles, almost as if she were still asleep.

“I’ve been so worried,” Stannis murmured, his voice low and a little raw with emotion.

“I’m okay,” Sansa whispered in return, kissing his neck where she could reach.

“I know that, but I couldn’t help running all the scenarios where you could have been seriously hurt through my head. And I wouldn’t have been able to help you…” Stannis trailed off, sounding extremely wretched.

“You would have come for me eventually,” Sansa said with a smile, remembering how he had been worried because she hadn’t sent him a text message within the proper timeframe, “you’re my fierce protector, remember?”

“Of course,” he said, sounding completely serious. It made Sansa smile to hear his solemn voice, and she felt the butterflies in the pit of her stomach start to flutter.

“Er, sorry to interrupt, but Cat’s asking if you want any tea…” her father’s awkward voice floated over from the doorway, dragging Sansa from the private little world she had been in with Stannis.

Neither Stannis nor Sansa wanted tea, so her father left after dithering in the doorway for a few moments, obviously not keen on leaving them curled up on the couch together unsupervised.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sansa sighed when her father was gone. If it had been possible to press herself any more tightly into Stannis’ embrace she might have attempted it, but she really didn’t think there was a chance. “I love you,” she whispered, still a little shy about saying the words, but needing to.

Stannis kissed the top of her head and continued to stroke her hair softly. “I love you, too,” he murmured quietly.

Sansa stopped breathing for a few beats, stunned that he had managed to say the words. She hadn’t expected him to ever really _say_ them. Allude to them, maybe, but actually spit it out? She was shocked!

They held each other for a good long while, and Stannis did not seem to grow tired of combing through her hair and petting her. It was remarkable how content she felt, being held and loved by a man she loved in return, and she never wanted the moment to end.

But eventually Sansa’s stomach started to growl, and she realised she had missed dinner. Stannis trailed after when she walked to the kitchen to find herself something to eat, but got called away to talk to her father while she was still in the middle of searching the fridge for leftovers. She gave her father a look that promised him a world of pain if he said anything stupid to Stannis, but she got nothing but his usual serious look in return.

As she ate, she wondered what her father could possibly be discussing with Stannis.

***

Stannis wondered what Ned could possibly want to say that he hadn’t already told him. He couldn’t read Ned’s flat expression very well

“I know I haven’t been… supportive of your relationship with Sansa, and I doubt I ever will be, if I’m completely honest. But I wanted to tell you that I see that you care about her, and I - I appreciate that,” Ned said, pausing often and generally looking like he was pulling the words out of his mouth along with some teeth.

Stannis tried not to scowl. He attempted his most neutral expression instead and nodded once at Ned, signaling that he understood.

“I was afraid that you had something in common with Robert after all, and that you only wanted Sansa because she is… well, you are likely more aware than I that she is a very beautiful girl,” Ned said, sounding extremely awkward. Stannis understood his discomfort. He doubted he would ever really want to look at Shireen through the eyes of suitor -- it was unnatural. “Observing your behaviour today, and her behaviour, too, I feel like I was wrong about that. There is clearly more to your relationship than - er - the physical…” Ned grimaced and trailed off.

Stannis felt himself reddening, and he looked at the ground rather than at Ned.

“I told you I care about her the last time we spoke about this,” Stannis told the floor.

“Forgive me for not quite believing you when your reason for being with her in the first place was that she is pretty and she wanted you, and you were too weak to resist,” Ned said derisively.

Stannis winced and continued to look at the floor to hide the shame that was colouring his face crimson.

“But I believe you now,” Ned said a little reluctantly, “because you were the first person she called, because you came all the way here as soon as you could, and because I saw how you held her.”

He couldn’t resist glancing at Ned’s face, curious to know what sort of expression would accompany those words. The serious look on Ned’s face didn’t tell him much at first glance, but then Stannis noticed how Ned’s eyes had thawed ever so slightly, and he had to resist the urge to heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Go, I’m sure you’d rather be in the kitchen with her than out here with me,” Ned said after Stannis had spent a few agonising moments trying to think of something intelligent to say.

Stannis hesitated before leaving Ned, finally having remembered something he needed to mention. "Are you going to make sure this Ramsay character isn't allowed to continue to threaten the safety of Sansa or anyone else?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Ned responded grimly, a frightening expression on his face that Stannis was very relieved was not directed at him.

Stannis nodded, trusting that Ned would take care of it, and tried to walk at a dignified pace back to the kitchen. Grown men did not _flee._

Sansa looked up with a curious glimmer in her eyes when he rejoined her, sitting down at the kitchen table to watch her polish off a pasta salad she had apparently found. “What did Dad want?” she asked in between bites, careful not to speak with her mouth full, of course.

“He said he appreciated that I drove up,” Stannis said, not really wanting to share the details of the conversation with her. He really doubted she needed to know that Ned had been concerned Stannis was only with her because he liked sleeping with her.

“See, I told you he’d come around,” Sansa said with a smile.

“I suppose you did,” Stannis conceded, attempting to return her smile but unsure of whether he managed it. She looked pleased with his words and the quirk of his lips, though, and that was all that mattered to him.

***

Stannis managed to keep the secret of his newly discovered feelings for Sansa from Davos until after the holidays, but that was likely only because they didn’t get a chance to speak properly in private until they both returned to the office.

“You look different,” Davos said suspiciously as he nursed his morning cup of tea in Stannis’ office. They were the first to arrive as they usually were, and Davos was using the opportunity to interrogate Stannis, much to his displeasure.

“What do you mean?” Stannis growled, wondering if he’d put on weight or something. He hadn’t been able to make it to the gym quite as often as he usually did over the holidays, and aside from the day of Sansa’s kidnapping, he hadn’t been getting any exercise in the bedroom either. Had he overeaten at Robert’s New Year’s Party? No, he didn’t think so. He had been busy trying to keep his hands off Sansa. She had worn the most tempting little black dress…

“Well, I was going to say you looked less irritated somehow, but now you’ve just growled at me, so perhaps I was wrong.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Stannis said, but it was hard to muster the energy to send his friend a properly scathing look. It was difficult to maintain his usual scowl, even. Ever since he and Sansa had told each other how they felt, he couldn’t seem to stop being… _happy._ It was completely unnatural.

“No, you’re definitely less…” Davos trailed off and arranged his face into a caricature of a fierce scowl to explain what he meant. “What gives?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stannis huffed, crossing his arms and attempting another glare. Davos’ amused expression told him that he had not been successful.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you looked pleased about something,” Davos said, raising an eyebrow.

Stannis tried to keep his face neutral, but whatever expression he managed only seemed to make Davos more excited.

“You are pleased!” he exclaimed, “what are you pleased about?”

Stannis opened his mouth, furrowed his brow because he couldn’t think of anything to say, and closed it again.

“Something to do with Sansa, then?” Davos guessed, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Stannis blew out an irritated breath, feeling very harassed. “Yes, damn you.” How on earth did Davos always manage to read him like an open book?

“Well?” Davos prompted, gesturing in the air for Stannis to elaborate.

“She said she loves me,” Stannis mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

Both of Davos’ eyebrows shot up, and his amused, interested smile became a wide grin. “Really? And what did you say?”

“Don’t be an imbecile, I obviously told her that I love her, too,” Stannis huffed out, feeling himself redden. Why else would he be _pleased_? Davos should have been able to guess.

Davos laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done, then.”

“You don’t think it’s ridiculous?” Stannis asked, his insecurity about the relationship welling up like cold porridge, making him feel a little queasy.

“Anything that makes you look less than miserable is okay in my book,” Davos said seriously, though there was a small smile playing on his lips. “Just enjoy it,” he added with a shrug, “you’re not doing anything wrong, and you’re certainly not doing anything that hasn’t been done before.”

Stannis grimaced at the reminder of what a cliché he was being. Divorced businessman with an early midlife crisis. Couldn’t he just have bought an impractical car? No. Of course, not. He had to become hopelessly entangled with an eighteen year old who liked to tease him into releasing all of his pent up perversions on her. He clenched his jaw at the thought of the things she had playfully suggested to him at the New Year’s Party. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them since.

“Her father is less mad at me,” he said, trying to force himself to stop thinking about little vibrating things and Sansa all helpless and tied up. Thinking about Ned instead ought to do the trick.

“That’s settles it then, doesn’t it?” Davos said brightly.

Stannis nodded slowly, still struggling with his thoughts.

Davos seemed to be satisfied with the conversation and changed the subject to work. Stannis took a deep breath and pushed his dirty thoughts into a dark corner of his mind so that he could attempt to focus.

“Anyway, about that contract with the Tyrells, are you sure you’re still refusing to work with them? Renly said…”


	15. Games

Things were settling back into a routine. Shireen was back with her mother, Sansa was back in King’s Landing, and Stannis was swamped with work. 

On a cold, dreary Wednesday, about a week after Stannis’ conversation with Davos about the feelings he and Sansa had developed for one another, Stannis came home after a particularly exhausting day to find his apartment empty. Sansa had warned him that she would be at the library until late, and wouldn’t be cooking, but that there were leftovers in the fridge.

The days when Sansa studied late were Stannis’ least favourite days. He liked coming home to her, liked being kissed and asked about his day. It was mundane and domestic and he couldn’t get enough of it. The best days were when Sansa didn’t have early classes, because that meant she could sleep over and he could wake up with the scent of her hair filling his nose.

Stannis tried to ignore the longing his thoughts had awakened, and went to heat up yesterday’s leftovers. He spent the evening in his study, reading a report Massey had written and wincing at every typo and grammar mistake.

He decided to retire early as the report had given him a headache, but upon entering his bedroom he found something that made him forget all about the pain in his head. It had definitely not been in his room when he had left for work.

Stannis couldn’t believe his eyes. Sansa had apparently noticed how her flirtatious words at the New Year’s party had affected him and she had actually gone ahead and bought a lipstick-sized cylinder with a switch that caused the thing to vibrate smoothly, leaving it on his bedside table with a few silk ties and a note.

_Stannis,_  
_I thought you might like to keep this around. In case you ever want to try what we talked about…_  
_Yours,_  
_Sansa_

Stannis deduced that she must have stopped by at some point during the day while he had been at the office to place the object, the ties and the note on the table.

Without really deciding to do it, without really thinking, Stannis reached for his phone.

“Stannis?” Sansa’s voice sounded curious on the other end of the line.

“My place. _Now_ ,” he heard himself say commandingly.

“Oh, you found it?” Sansa sounded giggly and excited, “I can be there in half an hour. Jeyne borrowed my car and the next bus is ten minutes away.”

“Take a cab. Charge it to the card I gave you.” Stannis ended the call as soon as he finished speaking, breathing deeply to calm himself. He was fairly sure she’d do what he asked. There was a good chance she had brought the things to his apartment today in the hope he would react this way.

Gods… the images going through his head, the _ideas..._ He wanted to watch Sansa squirm around the way she had when he had first found out how a few well-timed swats to her perfect little arse could make her _desperate_ for his cock. He was already hardening in anticipation, and he hoped Sansa would not take too long about getting herself within reach.

Stannis left his bedroom to pace around the main living room of his apartment. It was a comfortable room, but there was no clutter. He did not like little knick-knacks, vases, bowls or candlesticks. He had a few picture frames, and a few pieces of art Shireen had made for him, but otherwise the room was dominated by simple, streamlined furniture and comfortable sofas. Renly had called it ‘Scandinavian’ when he first visited, but obviously Stannis had not bought any of his furniture at a store that also sold meatballs.

After pacing around the living room enough times to make himself dizzy, he decided to go to the kitchen for some water. He knew that Sansa liked his kitchen, and he supposed it did have every amenity one could ask for. There was a lot of stainless steel, and plenty of counter space. He had never taken much notice of his kitchen until Sansa had started to actually use it the way it was meant to be used. Before Sansa he had mostly used the blender to mix himself protein shakes. During the summer, when Shireen was with him, he usually had nutritious, balanced meals delivered from nearby restaurants.

He had always considered cooking to be a time consuming messy ordeal, but Sansa seemed to enjoy it, and he rather liked staying in the kitchen while she cooked, helping her when she asked, or just keeping her company. She always smiled when he showed up to ‘bother’ her in the kitchen, and sometimes referred to him as her favourite sous chef. (He never did anything more complicated than chop vegetables and stir things for her, though.)

Stannis sipped at his water and wondered why he’d never had sex with Sansa in the kitchen. It seemed like the sort of thing they should do at some point. Although, having vivid memories of taking Sansa on the kitchen table might get problematic; it would be terribly inconvenient to be at risk of becoming hopelessly aroused at the sight of his kitchen furniture.

Stannis continued to wander around his apartment, trying to be patient but mostly failing. His mind kept going back to all the things he wanted to do with Sansa, and he kept imagining her reactions -- the way she would beg him to take her; with a pretty blush painting her cheeks and her chest pink for him. He remembered how deliciously wet she had been for him when she had surprised him with that collar, how good it had felt to fuck her after having driven her half mad with need for him, how she had _screamed_ with pleasure…

He was almost to the point of taking himself in hand when Sansa finally arrived, letting herself in with her key. His eyes widened when he saw what she was wearing. It was one of the tight dresses she had tormented him with over the summer: dark grey with a pencil skirt that came down to her knees and a straight neckline that showed a hint of cleavage. She was balancing on a pair of those intensely arousing heels, too. Stannis immediately threw all of his previous plans out the window and decided to attempt something different.

“Sansa, you’re late. That is inexcusable. You know I demand punctuality from all of my employees, and _especially_ from my assistant,” he said in the brusque tone he had often adopted with her at Dragonstone. His heart was beating very fast, and I had to be very strict with himself to maintain his severe air. It was so tempting to quirk his lips at her and raise an eyebrow, but he would never have done that at the office and he wanted to stay in character. Would she play along?

“I’m so sorry, sir. I promise it won’t happen again,” she said meekly, looking at the floor. At the ‘sir’ a shudder went through him, and his cock twitched the way it always had when she had addressed him that way over the summer.

“I have no use for apologies or promises,” he said curtly, giving her a hard look.

“Oh, please, sir! You’re not going to fire me, are you?” Sansa said, the anxiousness in her voice sounding completely genuine. If it hadn’t been for the delighted gleam in her eyes Stannis would have been absolutely convinced. “I’ll do anything! Just let me keep my job... _please._ ” The ‘please’ was soft and imploring, and she bit her lip in that tempting way of hers, looking at him with her eyes widened and astoundingly innocent. The pressure below his belt intensified, and he had to take a few subtle deep breaths to steady himself. She was playing along _perfectly_ \-- almost as if they had planned this together.

“Anything?” he said heatedly, fixing her with a piercing glare.

She nodded meekly, her face already pinkening with arousal.

“Would you strip? Right here in my office?” It didn’t matter that they were in his living room and not at Dragonstone, if he said they were in his office, they were in his office.

“I - I... oh, please… don’t make me do that!” Sansa stammered, going crimson now, though her eyes were glazing over with arousal, “I’d be so embarrassed!”

“Don’t worry, you may leave your heels on,” Stannis said graciously, pursing his lips slightly. He felt a sudden urge to sit behind a desk as Sansa stripped for him and took off for his study, knowing full well she would follow him. He heard the click-clack of her heels on his hardwood floor a few paces behind him and allowed himself a smirk that she would not be able to see. He was _enjoying_ this. If only he could send his past self a message, telling himself that this moment was in store for him… 

It would have made the summer much easier to bear.

He was already seated behind the desk in his study by the time she caught up with him, curtains drawn to make sure no one would be able to peek in - though that was highly unlikely as they were on the top floor of a very tall building - his desk lamp providing the room with a soft, comfortable amount of light. She walked timidly through the door and turned around to close it, but he stopped her. “Leave it open,” he ordered, enjoying the way her eyes widened. If they were at Dragonstone in his _actual_ office, leaving his door open would mean that any passerby would be able to see her impending striptease. He wanted the idea in her head, as it would add to her embarrassment -- and her enjoyment.

Her breasts were straining the material of her tight dress as she breathed deeply, already intensely aroused by the look of things, and he quite liked the effect.

“Well?” he said impatiently, raising one eyebrow.

“I have to take _everything_ off?” Sansa asked, playing at being distressed; a small crease between her brows and a pretty pout on her lips.

“The shoes stay on,” Stannis repeated strictly. He sat up straight in his chair, clasping his hands together on the desk in front of him and giving her an impatient look. “I don’t have all day,” he added ruthlessly.

Sansa let out a little whimper - trying to pass it off as a whimper of despair instead of an obvious whimper of arousal - and started to unzip her lovely dress. Stannis tried to watch dispassionately, but he was probably looking very interested indeed. He was having to employ a lot of self control in order to prevent himself from leaning towards her, and his cock was starting to really complain about being trapped inside his trousers for so long in its current state. He decided to give into the urge to undo his fly and free it from its confines. He tried to do it subtly, but Sansa noticed anyway, and she gave him a little knowing smile. He would spank her for that later, he decided. She’d like that. He resisted the urge to stroke himself as he watched her, deciding that he would rather have her do all of his pleasuring for him.

The dress was so tight that Sansa had to wriggle out of it; clearly not an easy task to perform while tottering about on six inch fuck-me heels, but she managed it without breaking an ankle. It was _very_ entertaining to watch. She revealed herself to be wearing a simple set of lingerie, and no hosiery. The bra and panties were both mostly black, but they were decorated with little red ribbons and bows that were at once romantic and intensely sexual. She reached to unclasp her bra, but he held up a hand to halt her. He motioned for her to turn in a circle for him, and was immensely pleased when she complied immediately.

Her panties were _tiny_ and did not cover anything, really. His cock jumped at the sight of her nearly bare arse, and he had to suppress a groan. She was too gorgeous for words, and she was letting him live out a _very_ dirty fantasy. Could this really be happening to him? He almost wanted to pinch himself.

When she had completed her slow circle, he nodded at her to continue undressing, enjoying her embarrassed flush, the way she was trying to subtly press her thighs together for some relief, and the way her breasts were heaving with every breath she took.

He had to grip the armrests of his chair very hard when she removed her bra, the urge to grab his cock growing exponentially at the sight of her pretty pink nipples; perfectly puckered and begging to be played with.

Sansa pretended to look over her shoulder, checking that no one was outside his ‘office’ with an anxious look on her face.

“Everything,” he reminded her, giving her panties a pointed look.

“Oh, please don’t make me…” she whimpered, pouting at him imploringly.

“If you don’t do it yourself, I’ll be forced to come over there,” he growled, clenching his jaw shut as soon as he finished speaking, giving her a stern look.

“What if someone sees?” she whined, looking over her shoulder again.

“I might invite them in to watch up close,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “so why don’t you stop your nonsense and take those panties off.”

He watched hungrily as she pressed her thighs even more urgently together, worrying at her bottom lip and letting out a small moan. She gave him a quick look, showing him just how aroused she was with that single glance, and then dropped her eyes as she pushed her panties down her thighs and over her knees, letting them drop to her ankles. Very carefully - so she wouldn’t overbalance - she lifted one foot out of the lace prison, and then the other. She kept her eyes downcast, as if she were really ashamed to be standing in front of him in just her high heels. Seeing her like that, meek, embarrassed and fully nude, was too much. His cock was jumping uncontrollably, and if he didn’t do something soon he would go out of his mind.

“Come here,” he said, breathing heavily.

She tottered over to him, the heels forcing her to walk with a pronounced swing in her hips. It looked incredibly illicit, and he almost wished it was a longer walk for her to reach him. Almost.

He moved his chair back and motioned for her to sit in his lap. She perched herself delicately on one of his spread thighs, both of her legs in between his. He was pleased when she didn’t have to be told to stroke his cock, reaching for it all on her own like it was a present. She stopped just before she touched it, glancing at his face, obviously seeking permission, and he liked that even more. He nodded indulgently at her, and she started to stroke him; her small, warm hand gripping him firmly and giving him exactly what he needed.

“Mm, good girl,” he moaned, the relief of finally being touched making him want to melt to the floor.

“Anything for you, sir,” she whispered, the words triggering several memories of her using those exact words when she had been working for him, but phrasing them as a question. ( _”I’m going to get some tea, anything for you, sir?”_ ) He groaned, the combination of her hand on him and the memory her words had triggered making him feel positively sinful.

He was holding her waist with one hand, steadying her and enjoying the feel of her warm, naked skin, but his other hand was free to tease one of her nipples, and he gave into the temptation, liking the way she started to squirm around almost as soon as he touched the sensitive tip of her her breast.

She gasped when he pinched just a touch harder than he usually did, and moaned when he followed the pinch up with the fast, light flicks that she loved.

“Oh, _Stannis,_ ” she moaned when he repeated everything on her neglected nipple, wriggling around on his thigh and moving the hand that was grasping his cock a little faster. “Mmm, have I convinced you to let me stay?” she asked after a little while, breathless and still unable to sit still.

“No, I’m not entirely sure you’ve earned the privilege of continuing to serve as my assistant,” Stannis said as calmly as he could with her hand around his cock and his own hand fondling one of her breasts.

Sansa pouted. “What more can I do, sir?” she asked breathlessly.

Stannis decided it was time to fetch the new things Sansa had got them. “Go get the present you left me,” he murmured into her ear, moving the hand at her waist to the small of her back and giving her a little push off his lap. She got unsteadily to her feet and looked at him with a delightful, thoroughly embarrassed expression on her face. He wondered if her cheeks might burn him if he touched them as they looked fiery red.

“You want me to walk outside like this?” she asked in a mortified whisper.

“Yes, go fetch the present and return like a good little girl. Run along,” he said brusquely, knowing full well that she would not be able to run in those heels. She would be forced to strut with that pronounced swing in her hips through the imaginary crowded office (the living room), to get to his bedroom and then back. He could tell the idea was making her knees weak, and she was trembling slightly with arousal, her breathing slightly faster than it had been while she had been on his lap.

“Go,” he said austerely.

She whimpered and dithered about, red-faced and hopelessly turned on, giving him imploring looks that begged him to let her off the hook.

“I’m going to start counting. The number I reach before you return with the present will be how often I am going to spank you,” he said threateningly, “one…”

Sansa let out an adorable squeak and hurried out the door as fast as her ridiculously impractical footwear would allow.

Stannis was up to twenty by the time she returned with the silk ties and the little cylinder.

“Come here,” he said, indicating that she should stand next to the desk and face the length of it. He accepted the items she had brought and put them on the the middle of the desk, moving his laptop and some files out of the way. He picked two of the silk ties up, closed his fly so that his trousers wouldn’t fall down when he stood, and went to kneel at Sansa’s feet.

“Spread your legs,” he told her, his voice husky and low.

Sansa spread her legs so that they were about a shoulder width apart, but he needed her to spread them further so he would be able to tie her ankles to the legs of his desk. It was not the most narrow desk in the world, but she should be able to manage it without _too_ much trouble.

“Spread them properly,” he admonished, reaching for her ankle with one hand to indicate where she should place it. In order to keep her balance with her legs spread as wide as they were, she was compelled to grab the side of the desk in front of her, her height and the added height of her heels forcing her to bend over a little to do so with her arse thrust out. _Perfect._

He tied her ankles to the legs of his desk, using a simple knot that would come loose with a good tug. He didn’t wish for her to be truly trapped. The ties were just there to provide her with the illusion of being bound, while she actually willingly stayed spread for him like this. For him, that was a huge part of the appeal.

Stannis got to his feet and backed away to admire the picture Sansa presented. Naked and spread wide, slightly bent over and holding onto his desk, her thick hair falling over one shoulder like a river of fire. Stannis knew it had to be uncomfortable to stand on those heels with her legs spread like that, but she did not make so much as a discomfited sound. He had a very clear view of her pink glistening folds due to the way she was posed for him, and he had to clench his jaw very tightly and remind himself that he wanted to play with Sansa some more before he fucked her. She already looked completely ready for his cock: wet, swollen and _gorgeous._

He picked up the remaining ties and and bound Sansa’s wrists and elbows together. He entertained himself by tying nice bows in the silk, making her look like a present. Trussed up this way, she was forced to lean a little awkwardly on her tied-up elbows, bent over completely. She watched him with her eyes wide the whole time, her pupils blown out to such an extent that he could only see a sliver of blue. Her lips were parted and she was breathing much more loudly than she normally did, letting the air out of her lungs shakily.

“Now, keep count, and if you take your punishment like a good girl I will reward you,” he said, having to keep his own breathing under tight control.

He gave her gorgeous arse a light swat with his open hand, aiming for the centre of one of her rounded cheeks and enjoying the smacking sound it produced. Even better was Sansa’s little gasp at the contact, and Stannis swore the scent of her arousal became even more pronounced in the air, musky and uniquely hers.

“One,” she moaned, obviously enjoying herself immensely. Stannis swallowed, again feeling much too tempted to abandon the game and simply start fucking her. His cock was twitching against his trousers, eager to be free again, eager to be stroked, or sucked, or plunged into Sansa’s tight, wet passage.

In order to distract himself, he hurried to smack Sansa’s arse again, aiming for the other cheek this time.

“Two,” she moaned, and wriggled as much as she could, displaying herself eagerly. He could see how wet she was, and he knew that if he pushed a finger inside of her, her inner muscles would clamp down around the digit in a wonderfully decadent way.

“Do you like being spanked in my office?” he growled, reminding her of where they were supposed to be; reminding her that the door was still open. He spanked her again, aiming low, making sure to give her just the lightest of taps.

“Oh, Gods! _Three_ ,” she gasped out, drawn out moans and whimpers following her words.

“Do you like being punished for all the other employees to see?” he asked hoarsely, swatting the centre of one of her cheeks again, using just a little more force to get a more satisfying smacking noise. He left his hand where it landed, stroking her softly.

“Four!” she whimpered, “it’s embarrassing,” she added in a mortified whisper in answer to his question even as she pushed her arse back against his hand, seemingly unable to stop her wriggling.

He gave her another smack (“Five!”) and let his fingers wander to her soft entrance, just barely tickling it and getting the tips of his fingers wet. “I think you like being embarrassed. You’ve made yourself all wet,” he said, dark amusement in his tone. He gave her another light tap between her legs and thoroughly enjoyed the obscene, moist sound it produced.

“Oh, six, six...” she whimpered desperately, trying to chase his hand by arching her back and pushing her backside out as far as she could, practically presenting herself to be fucked like an animal in heat.

His cock felt heavy and angry in the confines of his trousers, and the pressure was becoming quite unbearable; he was torn between dragging the spanking out and hurrying to get to the next part of what he had planned for her. It was impossibly difficult to deny himself the pleasure of having her, and if he hadn’t known that he was driving her just as crazy with need he would have given up and got his cock out then and there.

He gave her two swats in quick succession, one on each cheek (“Seven, eight!”), and continued talking in his low, dark voice, enjoying the way she was blushing more and more at every word he said.

“You like it when I show you who’s in control, don’t you?” he asked heatedly, groping her supple flesh a little roughly.

“Yes...” she moaned.

He gave her a sharp smack, using enough force so that it would smart a little. “Yes, what?” he said warningly, his cock twitching in anticipation of her next words.

“Yes, sir! Nine!” she whimpered, a pathetic little whine in her tone. The air of his study was completely saturated with the scent of her arousal now, and her inner thighs were starting to glisten with her juices. It was a _magnificent_ sight, and he had to swallow the urge to get down on his knees and start licking everything she was offering him. He took a succession of deep breaths, filling his nose with her heady scent and not really calming himself down at all.

He started to stroke her, letting his fingers pass over her opening gently while he kneaded one of her cheeks, her warm flesh firm yet yielding in his large hand.

“You like it when I tell you what to do, don’t you?” he asked huskily.

“Yes, sir,” she moaned, “please…” It did not sound as if she knew what exactly she was begging for, but he liked it when she pleaded with him, so he tickled her entrance again as softly as he could, knowing that it would just be torture for her.

“Are you going to be a good girl from now on? Come into the office early and get on your knees for me?” he asked, unable to keep his voice from shaking a little with excitement.

“Every day?” she asked, sounding hesitant, a bit of a pout in her tone. She was just begging to be spanked some more, he decided.

He gave her three sharp smacks in a row, enjoying the way her very pale skin was starting to pinken, and _loving_ the way her cheeks and thighs jiggled a little with each impact of his hand.

“Ten, eleven, twelve!” she gasped out, moaning and squirming and making his cock twitch with keen interest.

“At the beginning _and_ end of every day,” he amended ruthlessly, “you _will_ be on your knees under my desk, ready and willing with your mouth open. Isn’t that right?”

He wanted to groan at the idea of making her do that over the summer when she had worked for him, loving the mental image of sitting down at his desk each morning to find her waiting to suck his cock, and then being eager to service him again at the end of each long, gruelling day. If he had made her do that he wouldn’t have had to spend all his summer evenings masturbating…

“What if someone were to see?” she whined, her face fire-engine red with embarrassment.

He gave her another series of smacks, (“Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!”), intentionally delivering the light blows in a way that would create the maximum amount of noise without him having to actually use much force.

“Then that someone would simply see what a good little girl you are,” he said hotly, impatient for her to agree to the fantasy scenario he had suggested.

“But you wouldn’t let anyone watch, would you?” she asked anxiously.

He gave her another light, wet tap between the legs, making her gasp and clench her cheeks briefly. (“Sixteen!”)

“I wouldn’t intentionally call anyone to see me, but if someone happened by you would simply have to _suck quietly,_ ” he said unyieldingly, liking her furious blushing and squirming.

“Yes, sir,” she said meekly.

“Tell me what you’re going to do from now on,” he commanded, lettings his hands stroke her pink buttocks, occasionally squeezing them slightly.

“I’m going to arrive early each morning and get on my knees under your desk, open my mouth and get ready to receive your - your cock,” she said dutifully, sounding mortified and stumbling a little over using what he knew she considered to be a dirty word. He found that it thrilled him utterly to see her like this and hear her sounding so embarrassed. It was intensely arousing, and he was really starting to feel a slight ache in his sac from being denied for so long.

He spanked her lazily. “And?”

“Seventeen,” she moaned before continuing, “and I’m going to get on my knees at the end of each day, too, and suck you again, sir.”

Hearing her say it made him shudder, and he wanted nothing more than to drop his trousers and start fucking the gorgeous, glistening entrance that had been taunting him for what felt like an eternity, but he was determined to keep to his plan.

“Good girl,” he said huskily, “now, you have three more strikes to go, and I’m going to let you choose whether I give them to you hard and fast so that you can get to your reward, or whether I give you nice, slow, soft little pats. But if you choose the latter, I am going to leave you like this for half an hour while I go take care of myself and then have a bit of a nap.” His heart was hammering, his own words causing tremors of excitement to run down his spine and all the way to his extremities.

“Please spank me hard and fast, sir,” Sansa begged, her face burning crimson.

Stannis closed his eyes briefly, savouring the sound of those words. He was going to _remember_ this.

He drew in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

“Ready?” he asked her softly, breaking character a little to make sure she was okay with where he was taking them.

“Mm, yes,” she moaned and wriggled her arse, leaving him in no doubt that she was up for it.

He didn’t give her any more warning. He raised his hand high and let it come down _hard_ on one of her round, pink cheeks, a very loud smacking noise reverberating throughout the room. Her flesh was still jiggling a little when the next smack landed in exactly the same spot, and then immediately the third one followed. The spot he had chosen had turned red, and he hoped it would stay red for a little while; a reminder of what she had allowed him to do.

“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty!” Sansa cried out, breathing loudly and sounding a little shocked.

Stannis stroked her arse gently for a little while, petting her and soothing her, listening as she got her breathing under control.

“You’ve been a very, very good girl,” he said hoarsely after a while, walking to pick up the little cylinder, switching it on and letting her hear it vibrate, “you’ve definitely earned your reward.”

He returned to his previous position behind her and started stroking her again, getting his fingers all wet and dipping a single finger slowly inside of her to feel the way her inner muscles clamped down greedily, trying to suck him further inside.

“Have you ever played with a toy like this before?” he asked curiously.

“No, sir,” she said shyly, still red in the face from before.

Stannis raised his eyebrows. If she hadn’t tried this on her own, where had she got the ideas she had planted in his head at the New Year’s party? He decided to ask her about it later as he was too impatient to get started to do more talking.

“I think you’re going to like this very much,” he said, letting his amused excitement colour his voice and holding the vibrating device to her entrance. He dipped it inside to get it properly coated in her juices and then moved it towards the place further away where she was red and swollen and _sensitive._

“Ah, ah! Oh, _Gods!_ ” Sansa yelped in surprised pleasure, her thighs trembling. He was impressed at how steadily she had stood in those heels all through her spanking, but now she seemed to have reached her limit, and she started to wobble as he moved the vibrator in lazy circles over her hopelessly aroused flesh.

It was vastly entertaining to listen to her yelps turns into cries and sobs of pleasure as she again started to arch her back and _present_ herself. She was doing all she could to push herself against the vibrator, and he amused himself be taking it away whenever she did this, scolding her to keep still.

“Trust me,” he whispered, his dark amusement clear in his tone.

He could tell that she was trying to keep still, but whenever he let the vibrator brush against her little pleasure centre she twitched as if she had just received a jolt of electricity. 

It was frightfully easy to make her come. She had been aroused beyond all reason before he had switched the little vibrator on, and even though he was pulling the device away every time she tried to chase it, she still came within two minutes, her high-pitched cries unmistakable. He wondered how often he could make her come before she started to beg him to stop, and the desire for an answer to this question helped him ignore the furious demands of his own arousal.

He reached to pinch one of her nipples with his unoccupied hand as he continued to use the vibrator on her, tracing ever tighter circles around the bundle of nerves that was currently driving her quite insane with pleasure from the sound of it. He didn’t know if she was gasping because of what he was doing to her nipple, or if it was just because of the vibrator, but he kept at it anyway; pinching her a little roughly and then stroking it softly.

Soon he realised there was a flaw in his plan to count her orgasms as she seemed to be having one, long, continuous orgasm. It was impossible to distinguish her peaks based on the sounds she was making, but he decided to keep going anyway. How much more until the vibrator would overwhelm her?  
He wanted her begging for mercy before he even started to fuck her.

Soon he heard the tone of her cries change. “Oh, please, no more, it’s - ah! - it’s too much, ah, ah, _ah!_ ” She was trying to squirm away from the device now, but unable to really get anywhere. He waited until he had wrenched one last orgasm from her from the sound of things, listening for a true note of desperation in her sobs before he finally switched the little cylinder off.

“Did you like your reward?” he asked, his voice husky and amused.

Sansa seemed unable to answer with words; she simply moaned out a sound that he thought might translate roughly to ‘yes’.

“Are you ready for my cock?” he asked her, his excitement at the prospect of _finally_ fucking her colouring his words.

Sansa whimpered, but arched her back and pushed her arse out encouragingly. Stannis thought she might have spread her legs if they weren’t already being held apart by silk ties. He looked at her lovely arse as his shaking hands struggled to get his cock free, feeling satisfied to see that her round cheeks were still pink from her spanking -- even a little red in the spot he had smacked right at the end.

Once he had his cock in his hand to guide it to her soaking entrance he looked at her face. She was peeking over her shoulder and giving him the most erotic, heated look imaginable, her pupils blown out, and her skin completely flushed with arousal and leftover embarrassment.

“Beg for my cock,” he instructed through gritted teeth, keeping himself from pushing inside of her by a _thread._

“Please, please, please,” she moaned prettily - obviously having recovered some of her powers of speech - face glowing pink and eyelashes aflutter.

“Please what?” he grunted, tugging on himself to keep from going insane as he rubbed the head of his cock against her slick folds.

“Please, I need you to f - fuck me with your - oh - with your big cock, sir,” she stammered, her voice nothing more than an embarrassed moan.

“As you wish,” he growled and plunged himself into her blessed heat, groaning at how ridiculously wet she was after all the foreplay, grabbing her hips to hold her steady as he started to move. He could not have waited a minute longer without giving himself a serious case of blue balls, and he relished the feel of her inner walls clenching around his cock, the tight fit making his eyes roll into the back of his head as he dragged himself out only to ram himself back inside with ruthless efficiency.

Sansa was gasping his name in every other breath, moaning and crying out as if she were right back to her previous state of continuous orgasming. From the way her inner muscles were fluttering around him he could very well believe that she _was_ just coming and coming without pause.

It had been a long wait so it did not take very long for him to reach the point where he was right on the edge of his release; a perfectly blissful state of being that he usually tried to prolong for as long as he could.

“Oh, _Gods,_ oh, yes, oh, yes, yes, _yes_ , please,” Sansa was babbling incoherently, urging him on, “harder! Just like that, oh, oh, mmm, fuck me Daddy,” Sansa moaned, her voice sounding completely pornographic in his ears. As soon as she called him Daddy he was lost, the darkness in him laughing at the dismay the rest of him felt and making him come with overwhelming force and heat as he fucked her as hard as he possibly could before his strength left him.

She was screaming, just as he had hoped she would, her ecstatic sounds making him wish he could just keep going and going without ever having to rest. He was swimming in pleasure; practically drowning in it after having given into the darkest part of his psyche for the time being, letting himself just enjoy the high of a good orgasm without worrying about what Sansa had said to push him over the edge.

But he did need to rest, and he was sure Sansa would want to get out of her heels at some point.

He slowed down until he was just barely moving his hips, stroked her back a few times, not sure whether he was trying to calm her or himself, and finally pulled out, feeling shaky and unsteady on his feet. If Sansa hadn’t been tied up he might have just collapsed into his desk chair for a bit to regain his composure, but he knew that however shaky he felt, she had to be feeling more so. And how often had he heard her complain about how painful it was to wear heels for too long at a time? He didn’t even want to imagine, and was often quite thankful to be a man and not be expected to strap those torture devices to his feet on a regular basis. He knelt and tugged on the ties that held her ankles in place, setting her free. She was trembling, and immediately staggered to his desk chair, probably ruining the upholstery with everything that was already starting to seep out of her and run down her thighs. He didn’t care. He could get a new chair -- it had only cost a few hundred gold dragons.

She let out a completely satisfied moan as she shook her shoes off, letting her head fall backwards and closing her eyes.

“If I had known you were going to do all that I would have worn more comfortable shoes,” she said with a small giggle.

Stannis stood up - he would never tell her what a mental effort it took - and pulled on the bows that held her wrists and elbows together, setting her free. His next order of business was to tuck himself back into his trousers, doing his fly up and buckling his belt.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” he mumbled, feeling a bit awkward now that all was said and done.

***

Sansa still felt tingly between her legs after everything that had happened in Stannis’ study, even after cleaning up and cuddling under the bedcovers for more than half an hour. Stannis had taken her _relentlessly,_ and that tiny vibrator had really had a _huge_ effect! She would never have believed it, but Myranda had convinced her to give it a try.

Sansa had gone back to the small boutique where she had bought the collar the day before Robert’s New Year’s Party with vague plans to buy something that she would be able to wear, or give surreptitiously to Stannis when she saw him.

“How did it go with the collar? I bet he loved it, didn’t he?” Myranda asked cheekily.

Sansa stared at the curvy brunette for a few beats, baffled that the shop assistant had remembered her. “Um, yeah… he liked it,” she eventually said with a blush.

“Back for more of the same, or do you fancy trying something new?” Myranda asked with a brilliant smile.

Sansa bit her lip and gave Myranda a wide-eyed, helpless look. She had no idea, really.

“Oh, you are adorable,” Myranda giggled, “come with me.”

Myranda had interrogated her briefly about what Sansa had tried before, and when she found out that Sansa had never used a vibrator she had become very excited.

“You simply must get one! If you’re uncomfortable with trying one on your own, I’m sure your guy would _love_ to use one on you. If he liked putting a collar on you he would probably really enjoy tying you up and _then_ using a vibe on you, and believe me, you’d be the one reaping most of the benefits in that situation,” Myranda explained, waggling her eyebrows a little.

Sansa had blushed furiously and shied away from all the big, scary-looking vibrators, but Myranda had shown her a collection of little, cute inconspicuous ones, and Sansa had almost been persuaded. In the end Sansa had only bought some pretty lingerie to be worn under her sleek black New Year’s dress, but the idea that Myranda had planted had stayed with her, and she had been unable to resist whispering some of it to Stannis to gauge his reaction. His excitement had been palpable, and she was sure that if they hadn’t been deathly worried about getting caught, they would have tried to sneak off for a bit of a tryst.

Because of the way Stannis had reacted, Sansa had felt brave enough to go back to the shop and pick up the little lipstick-shaped vibrator that had caught her eye and some silk ties. Today she had decided to surprise him by leaving her purchases on his nightstand. She had hoped he would call her when he found them, or perhaps keep them locked away until he was in the mood to try a new game. She had been very pleased when he called, and something about the clipped, commanding tone of his voice on the phone had prompted her to throw on a dress she had often worn to work over the summer, along with her sexiest heels.

She hadn’t expected the dress to have quite the effect it had turned out to have, but she was definitely not complaining. Stannis was obviously still not quite over all his sexual frustration of the summer, and she was more than happy to help him work through it. Even if it meant letting him embarrass her a little… or a lot. She kind of really liked it for some reason. Just like _he_ liked it when she called him Daddy. They still hadn’t discussed that properly, though.

No time like the present?

“Stannis?” she murmured, turning her head so her voice wouldn’t be too muffled against his chest.

“Mm?”

“You know I won’t judge you for liking it when I call you Daddy during sex, right?” She held her breath, hoping her blunt delivery wouldn’t cause him to shut down completely.

Stannis made an awkward noise, halfway between clearing his throat and whining. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

Tough.

“I know you don’t judge me for liking the stuff that I like…” she trailed off, thinking about how completely turned on she got whenever he spanked her. “I just want you to feel safe with me.”

“It’s _wrong,_ ” he mumbled.

“Nothing is wrong as long as we both like it and we’re not hurting anyone,” she argued, making her voice sweet and persuasive, trying to catch her skittish little fly with honey.

“How can you like it?” he sounded both curious and horrified.

She rolled her eyes mentally and held herself back from sighing. She had half a mind to answer him with a snippy ‘the same way you like it, maybe?’ but she knew that would only raise his hackles.

“It’s a little naughty,” she said instead, making her voice light and warm, “in a fun, sexy way.”

“You really think so?” He was mumbling again.

“I really do,” she said solemnly. Then, with a wicked smile and a hot blush that he wouldn’t be able to see she added, “and I like it when you spank me, Daddy…”

Stannis groaned and tightened his grip on her before pulling her head up from his chest to give her a desperate kiss. She allowed him to stroke her tongue with his, and suck greedily on her bottom lip, enjoying herself completely and moaning softly.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asked a little hoarsely when their kiss had broken and Sansa had gone back to resting her head on his chest. She was confused for a moment before she realised he was talking about the spanking.

“No, not at all. The last three smarted a bit, but really they barely registered compared with standing still in those heels for all that time,” she said and wriggled her toes, happy to be free. “What you did just felt good,” she added a little shyly.

Stannis cleared his throat, probably at a loss as to what to say to that.

She could sense that he still felt ill at ease with the whole ‘Daddy’ thing, and she rose up to look at him, even though she was blushing.

“Do you feel like it’s wrong when I call you ‘sir’?” she asked him curiously, willing him to understand that when she addressed him by anything other than his name it was just a game - a fantasy - and that her calling him these things during sex didn’t _mean_ anything.

“No… I like it,” he admitted stiffly.

“So you don’t think it’s wrong when I call you sir, even though you actually were my boss for a while, but you think it’s sick when I call you Daddy, even though you couldn’t be further from being my father?” she asked him wryly, raising an eyebrow.

“I suppose it sounds ridiculous when you put it like that,” he huffed.

The way he sounded made her feel a surge of affection for him, silly as he was, and she couldn’t help the next words that came spilling out of her mouth. “I love you,” she sighed happily.

“I love you too,” he said gently, kissing her chastely, but very warmly, making her smile against his lips.

Sansa found herself wishing that he had tacked a term of endearment to the end of his declaration, and decided to tell him how much she liked it when he called her certain things. Perhaps it would also help him feel better about the things he liked her to call him?

“I like it when you call me ‘pet’ or say ‘good girl’ and things like that,” she admitted, blushing more deeply and lowering her lashes for a moment.

“I noticed,” he said, a note of amusement and arousal in his voice. Sansa felt him hardening against her thigh, and she pressed herself against the burgeoning erection more firmly to encourage him. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to take much more sex after everything they’d done earlier - she was still all tingly and sensitive - but she didn’t feel entirely opposed to helping him out in some other way if he wished it.

Her palm was resting on his chest, close by his heart, and suddenly she felt his heartbeat speed up considerably. She noticed him swallow too, and take a breath as if he were preparing to say something nerve-racking.

“Would you like to lick Daddy’s cock, pet?” he asked, his voice breaking halfway through, his face flushing, his breathing coming out ragged and uneven. He felt completely rigid and hot against her thigh, and she felt a gush of her own heat between her legs in response to his words and his obvious arousal.

“Of course,” she said with a delighted giggle, kissing him quickly on the lips and then kissing her way down his body, moving the covers they had been under out of the way.

Right before she started to lick his cock she looked up at him and bit her lip, pretending to furrow her brow as if she were deep in thought.

“You know, I don’t think I should work for you again next summer,” she said mock seriously, and then got busy licking him as if he were the tastiest of treats.

Stannis huffed out one of his ‘laughs’, the sound quickly turning into a groan. “Probably not,” he said simply, tangling his hand in her hair and stroking her gently as she dragged her tongue up and down his cock. A little later on, when she sucked the head into her mouth, he moaned and tightened his grip on her hair infinitesimally.

“Good girl.”

 

**(Mostly) the end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Tommyginger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/pseuds/Tommyginger) I've decided to add an epilogue tomorrow, so stay tuned for that. (If you want.)


	16. Epilogue

Stannis was helping Shireen - who was staying with him this weekend due to Robert’s costume party - put on her fairy wings. He was feeling incredibly awkward about letting his daughter see him in his own ridiculous getup, but doing his best to hide his embarrassment. How had he let Sansa talk him into this?

Sansa emerged from his bedroom in her costume and he suddenly remembered.

He was eerily reminded of what she had looked like at fifteen in a similar black catsuit, but this was definitely different. She had curled her hair, and she was showing a little more cleavage than she had shown back then. There were also a lot of gun belts and straps and things. She looked quite lethal.

“Ready to go, Mr. Stark?” Sansa asked with a pronounced smirk. She was clearly amused at the coincidence of his character’s last name coinciding with her _actual_ last name.

“Just about, Miss Romanoff,” he said dryly, finding Shireen’s gloves and handing them to her.

He glimpsed himself in the foyer mirror as he found the coat that would go over his suit and scowled at the flamboyant Van Dyke he had been obliged to grow. He had never worn his facial hair in such a way before and he could hardly recognise himself. He was usually clean-shaven, occasionally scruffy, and very rarely he sported a full beard. This vain style he was currently wearing seemed more up Baelish's alley.

Sansa had been determined, however, and he had been unable to resist the rewards she had promised him.

"It's a perfect couple's costume for us! Black Widow was even Tony's assistant at one point."

Stannis nodded -- he had seen the films. Sansa liked them.

"But wouldn't that Pepper person be more appropriate?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and donning the sunglasses that went with his costume.

"Yes, but Sansa wanted to be an Avenger!" Shireen piped up.

“That, and Dad would have had a fit if I had dressed up as your assistant. It would confirm all his worst fears about us!” Sansa whispered so that Shireen wouldn’t hear and start asking questions.

"Fine, fine. Shall we?" Stannis held the door open for Sansa and Shireen and followed them out.

At Robert's house they were greeted with a lot of surprised - but mostly positive - comments about their costumes. 

“ - hah! Iron man! That makes sense - ”

“ - better watch out Stannis, you know what Black Widows are famous for -”

“ - that catsuit is skin tight, how do you get into it? - “

Stannis had to tolerate a lot of curious questions about the glowing circle that could be glimpsed through his white shirt, but thankfully no one felt the need to poke him. No one except Sansa had ever been allowed to get away with that.

"How funny! A grumpy version of Tony Stark!" Robert chortled, "that’s just bizarre.” Robert looked at Sansa, who was standing quite close by in her very tight catsuit. “How did you get him to dress up?” he asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Do you really want to know?” she asked, a devious smirk playing on her lips.

Robert let out a booming laugh and clapped Stannis on the back before wandering off to bother someone else.

“Do you have to… imply things?” Stannis whispered to her, feeling embarrassed.

“Yes,” Sansa said simply, giving him a peck on the cheek.

He didn’t know whether to be frustrated or pleased with her, so he settled for distracting himself by looking for the refreshments.

It had been nearly a year since they had started seeing each other, and everyone at the party was used to idea of them being together. Stannis tried not to be too tense when Sansa perched herself on his lap when there weren’t enough seats, but he couldn’t help feeling nervous about how freely Sansa showed her affection for him when members of her family were near. Ned had relaxed considerably when it came to their relationship, but he still didn’t really _like_ the fact that Sansa was with a surly old man, and Stannis was still wary of touching Sansa whenever Ned was in the same room.

He was very relieved when Sansa dragged him off to hide in a corridor, away from the bustle of the party.

“You look so sexy with that beard, I don’t know what it is…” Sansa giggled, running her hands down his chest, stroking his cheeks, grasping his upper arms lightly, pressing her lithe form against him, and generally pawing at him in a way that was starting to make him hard.

“Sansa,” he said warningly.

“Stannis,” she replied playfully, breathing his name right into his ear and moving his hands until they were somehow groping her arse. Quite a situation.

“We can’t do this here,” Stannis groaned, even though he’d was very keen to grind himself against her and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

“Do what? We’re not doing anything,” Sansa said in her most innocent tone of voice, yet coming off as flirtatious regardless. She started to lick his neck and he hissed out a breath at the pleasurable sensation.

Stannis would move his hands to a less scandalous location any second now, but it really was the best feeling to squeeze her perfect arse and pull her just a little closer.

“I’d be up for doing something when we get home, though,” Sansa said temptingly, “what would you like?”

So many possibilities, so many of them much too loud when they had to consider that Shireen would be sleeping nearby. Honestly, it was a miracle his daughter hadn’t walked in on anything illicit yet. Thankfully it seemed Shireen was a very sound sleeper, or she would probably have been scarred for life at some point over the summer.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something, pet,” he said quietly, his voice a few octaves lower than usual.

“Can we play with some toys?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes shining with excitement.

“If you’re a very good girl,” he said and smirked at her.

“Mm, but what will you do if I’m a bad girl, Daddy?” she asked coyly.

“Yes, what _will_ you do?” a familiar, mocking voice asked. Baelish had apparently been lurking around the corner, and he sounded quite fascinated. Stannis went completely blank. He had absolutely no idea how to respond to that man, of all people, catching them in the middle of such a private, dirty conversation. He did, however, manage to move his hands to the more respectable location of Sansa’s waist. She was hiding her face by pressing it against his chest, and probably blushing quite intensely based on how warm she felt.

The way he saw it, he had two options. He could become flustered and mortified, try to threaten Baelish into never speaking of this to anyone, and then possibly bleach his own brain to get rid of the memory of Baelish ever catching them. Or, he could just _own it._ Baelish wasn’t likely to tell anyone about this, and even if he did -- who would care that he and Sansa had snuck off to have a private moment? And he doubted anyone would believe that Sansa had been calling him Daddy. The pitiful man was jealous, and stuck with Lysa for a wife. Why not just rub his face in it?

“What I usually do,” Stannis said calmly, raising an eyebrow.

Baelish seemed momentarily disconcerted by Stannis’ reply, though he recovered quickly. “Which is…?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Stannis said blithely, enjoying the irritated look Baelish seemed to be having trouble wiping off his face.

Sansa did not seem to have caught on to what he was doing, because she looked up at him with an incredulous expression. He tried to give her a quick reassuring look in return.

“So you’ve got her trained, then?” Baelish said with a leer, trying to recover his footing. His smirk was a little uncertain, however, and there was confusion lingering in his odd grey-green eyes.

“Oh, yes,” Stannis agreed darkly, “but I don’t see what that has to do with you. Unless you’re pathetic enough to think she’d be interested in you at any point in her life?”

Sansa’s eyes widened, and understanding blossomed in them. She turned around to face Baelish, encouraging Stannis to wrap his arms around her middle as she pressed her back to his chest and her arse to his groin. She tipped her head back, looking up at him with an incredibly exaggerated version of her usual adoring look.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want anyone else but you,” she purred up at him, amusement glittering in her eyes.

Baelish rolled his eyes, but followed the exasperated gesture with a nasty look and a scowl. “You’ve made your point,” he spat bitterly.

“Well, if you’d be so kind as to leave us be, then?” Stannis asked, making his tone as bored as possible.

“Of course,” Baelish said with a mocking bow of his head. He turned on his heel and stalked off, clearly in a _mood._

As soon as he was out of earshot Sansa started to giggle a little hysterically.

“I can’t believe you _did_ that!” she exclaimed, swatting his arm lightly.

“Perhaps if he thinks you’ve been thoroughly claimed by a bigger bully than him, he’ll stop bothering you,” Stannis said, his words leaving a fairly disgusting taste in his mouth. For all their bedroom games, he did not like the idea of Sansa as his property. She was her own person.

“I hope so,” Sansa said quietly, giving him the kind of look that told him she was very interested in the idea of being ‘thoroughly claimed by him’ in the bedroom. Soon.

Stannis had to take a step back from her so that her proximity and her heated gaze wouldn’t cause even more of a reaction below his belt.

“Er, ready to go home?” he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

“Definitely.”

 

**Really the end now.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and they lived kinkily ever after.
> 
> Hope you liked it! Thank you so much for sticking with the story, and I can't thank those of you who took the time to comment enough! You rock, and you deserve all the cookies and good karma in the world. ♥


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